


Medical coding

by Justcommander_archive



Category: The Transformers (Cartoon Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: Kidnapping, M/M, Medical Procedures, Medicinal Drug Use, Needles, Surgery
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-15
Updated: 2018-05-10
Packaged: 2019-02-15 07:13:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 22,819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13025925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Justcommander_archive/pseuds/Justcommander_archive
Summary: A white medic fell in the battlefield today. He thought nobody would have touched him, left him ignored like a pale ghost passing through the wounded soldiers.He fell alone on the ground and the green surgeon found him. He wouldn’t have ignored the medic nor any other warrior, he wouldn’t have refused to harm an enemy.Pain and cure sometimes feel so similar. Some wounds require a lot of suffering to heal. The green surgeon never bothered to see them too different from each other.The white medic always tried to keep them separated instead. But will he ever regret this now he’s under the green surgeon’s scalpels?





	1. Enemy rescue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First things first as always: I'm Italian, not English and I don't have a beta. Sorry for all the mistakes you'll find.  
> Anyway, hope you'll enjoy reading this.
> 
> __
> 
> Units of time:
> 
>  
> 
> 1 Nanoklik - 1 second
> 
> 1 Cycle - 1 minute and 30 seconds
> 
> 1 Joor - 1 hour
> 
> 1 Solar Cycle - 1 day
> 
> 1 Deca Cycle - 10 days
> 
> 1 Stellar Cyle - 1 year
> 
> 1 Vorn - 80 years

When Ratchet felt his limp frame getting draggged on the cold ground, he managed to ask himself just one question: What was he thinking? Yes, what a good question and yet so incredibly stupid at the same time. It was pretty much useless trying to ask himself why he actually thought the Decepticons would have refused to hurt a medic during a raid. He should have expected them to be merciless even with the most unharmed mechs they could find on their way. Why was he surprised? He’s been fighting against them for stellar cycles now, so why was he still hoping they would have followed a rule that left the medical officers unharmed even if they were from the opposite team? And he was stupid enough to believe they had some honor left! How did he come to that conclusion, if those bastards had the ability to not feel ridiculous or guilty while threatening even small and young humans… with physical disabilities?! There was a difference from constantly hoping and praying that even the most cruel mech had some little part of humility inside their spark.. and being naive, believing to something impossible! It was definitively useless trying to ask himself these questions now! He should have reasoned before he ran out, ignoring the guns and kneeling down next to his injured teammates. If he had some energy left and his servos weren’t impossible to move at the moment, he surely would have punched himself in the faceplates!  
  
And he probably should have expected to end up getting shot sooner or later: they have been attacked way more frequently lately, the Decepticons came all the way to the Ark and luckily, every time got stopped before they could cause way too much trouble. He didn’t even want to imagine what could have happened if they managed to get inside. If they simply didn’t care about shooting a medic, they wouldn’t have stopped in front of an injured enemy. And let’s not imagine what they would have done to First Aid! His little apprentice knew absolutely nothing about fighting! Just something about self defense and… what he knew would have actually worked if he had to protect himself from an earthling, not from a dangerous Decepticon soldier!  
But this time, they did manage to get so close that the Autobot medic hasn’t even needed to get outside to see the two factions fighting in the distance. And then, what distance? They were practically out there! He just had to look outside and he could see them all. Sure some were a bit far away, but when he found himself having to offline immediately the optics because of a bright purple flash practically outside the entrance, he immediately ran back, pushed the young medic behind a table and litterally ordered him to not move or get closer to the long hallway that would have led them out for absolutely no reason! Skywarp could have been considered very… childish, very clumsy, carefree and idiotic but when he decided to chase a certain prey, nothing would have stopped him. Nothing. After observing his behavior for so long, Ratchet came to the conclusion that the poor spark the dark flier had chosen to hunt down, would have done better getting ready to defend themselves, literally having to predict the other’s moves since he had the ability to teleport behind their back whenever he wanted. And there was no way First Aid could have had a chance against the elite seeker! He was against violence and catching him would have been so easy, that the ambulance suspected that if the big seeker’s optics would have focused on such an easy prey, he would have preferred to play with him, making him believe to be still in time to escape from his grasp... releasing him on purpose just to catch him again right after. He didn’t want to imagine what a big damage he would have caused to the young bot with those sharp and pointy digits while playing, scratching his soft plating… and he obviously pushed away the thought of the seeker finally growing tired of that cruel game and getting rid of the little toy he’s been playing with.  
  
Hm, that must have been what actually pushed him to run outside probably. He was afraid the yound mech would have been caught if someone tried to get inside, and seeing how close the ‘cons managed to get, he thought his team must have needed him. Sure, he wasn’t the best warrior, he was a medic and not a soldier, but if he couldn’t have been useful fighting, he could have still helped someone who needed immediate medical attention. As he stepped outside he could see the dark flier busy trying to get Sideswipe off his back. He sighed in half relief. Luckily he was around... it wouldn’t have taken much for the seeker to get in the Ark if nobody stopped him! The small mech had a firm grip on the other’s large wings and just this was probably enough to make him go crazy and immediately trying to make him let go. Hopefully that young bot knew what he was doing there: seekers didn’t appreciate to have their ailerons touched by someone else… especially if they were enemy grounders. Despite everything, Sideswipe seemed to have the situation under control anyway, he was very expert when it was about attracting the attention and easily dodging the attacks of an enemy too angry to keep control on their actions, unable to aim properly. Especially those of his kind all had this problem of losing their temper when a grounder… an enemy grounder showed them disrespect and Sideswipe seemed to know this very well.  
But when in the distance he could see a small white frame being thrown up in the air and landing with such a loud crash he could hear it from there, Ratchet started to run as fast as he could, already getting ready to repair his teammate and completely ignoring to be in the middle of a battlefield. He was used of finding himself there to fight, but at the moment he was only thinking about going to do his job and see how serious the damage was. And well, it was impressive!  
«Jazz!» He kneeled on the ground and turned the smaller bot onto his back, crefully opening his chest plating to stop the leaking, quickly getting to work and repair the broken energon lines. Whoever hit him has managed to cause him more trouble in the inside and he has been very lucky he went there to take care of him in time! «H-hey thanks Ratchet» he heard the other whispering, obviously wincing in pain as he literally had to get operated in the middle of a raid without being put into stasis first. The medic was at least glad the other was still working and able to talk. This meant the injury stopped there and didn’t reach anything too important. At the moment he was so nervous he barely managed to process every other information that the scan gave him. He slowly pulled him behind a rock to get at least something that could be considered a shield and got back to work, focusing on what he was doing despite all that noise of jets flying way too close, purple rays hitting on the ground, a terribly strong smell of energon and oil mixing to the dust. Screams and orders getting yelled, curses, threats… He hated all this, but had to accept long ago he should have had to deal with all this kind of situation very often.       
When Bluestreak spotted him, he immediately ran over to them, sliding down the hill and crouching close to the small white bot «Jazz?! Jazz you okay?! Don't you worry little buddy, teh doc is-- Ah! The doc is gonna fix you once again, you'll be perfecly fine and ready to kick these idiots in less than a solar cycle I'm sure-- ah a damn!» he could only waste a nanoklik to focus on his companion before turning around and shooting at Ravage, who got so close Ratchet wouldn’t have known what to do if the other didn't come to protect them in time. The cassette growled and fell down on his back, kicking and hissing for a moment before managing to get up and running away. Damn it. If Soundwave was currently free to run there, he wouldn’t have been to gentle with them. The medic clenched his denta and sighed in relief when the broken energon lines finally stopped leaking and closed the other’s chest plates. «He can’t fight anymore like this! Take him back to First Aid, he’ll take care of the rest. I must stay out here in case someone else would require my help!» he quickly looked around, trying to focus on the mechs who seemed to be having more trouble at the moment, while the other seemed to be about to argue, but stopped immediately as he understood what kind of situation they were in. So Bluestreak moved closer to the little bot and curled his arms around him, holding gently on his waist and keeping his grip tight enough to make sure he wouldn’t have slipped «Don’t worry buddy, we’re gonna make you turn back good as new now! We're going! See' now I pull you up so you don't have to worry about wasting energy--» he looked out again and stood up «Back to the Ark we go-» the began to run so fast Ratchet could barely see him in the middle of that raid.    
That was also the last thing he barely saw before a sharp pain paralyzed him completely. He fell on the ground and quickly tried to process what actually happened. And he descovered with horror that his legs were suddenly no longer attached to his knee joints properly, then a serious leaking… and he couldn’t focus on anything anymore.  
  
Ratchet couldn’t even hear himself scream when he fell, chin hitting violently on the hard ground, faceplates scratching on the sharp rocks and chest glass shattering at the way too violent impact. He kept on ignoring messages warning him of a dangerous leak from his legs, the exposed wires getting infected with small rocks and dirt. It hurt too much and he couldn’t even bring himself to literally see if his legs got suddenly pulled away from his frame and was afraid to actually see it, such a disgusting image would have only made him panic more. Sure he was a doctor, he was used to these things, but here in the middle of the battlefield, seeing his limbs no longer attached to him wouldn’t have helped. Oh how stupid he was… hiding behind that rock would have repaired him from flying bullets, but it was obvious to everyone he was there. How did he expect the Decepticons to ignore him? He coughed and slowly dragged himself away, feeling his processor having difficulties to register anything anymore. The legs were in so much pain they couldn’t be possibly removed, but were probably very close to getting ripped off… he was so far from the Ark, no one there with him. Bluestreak just left to take Jazz to safety… he couldn’t have came back in time, could he? Ratchet hissed in pain again and looked up as he felt the sun suddenly stopping to hit his frame and all he could see was a blue stain over him, Thundercracker… or Dirge. He couldn’t even tell the difference in that situation. All he could understand was that they were an enemy. Then all he could see was black. He felt his thighs hitting against a warm substance, and soon realized what a large pool was forming under his frame, liquid constantly and rapidly flowing out of his knees. Something approaching, jumping on his back and biting. Probably Ravage, yes he must have returned, tried to attack the bot who shoot him and found him instead. The medic onlined the blue optics once again, a weak light that reflected on the servos he unconsciously brought close to his helm, probably while trying to stand up. They pushed against the soil, but as the cassette’s denta sunk deep into his back, an arm moved by itself, shaving against the little spy’s helm. He only felt a stronger pain after this, against his digits this time. He was probably losing them too now, the ‘con must have had a very strong grip with his jaws on them and suddenly started to pull. More warnings to ignore, that pain was enough for him to know he could soon say goodbye to his servos. Did he even scream for help? Probably. He’s been calling for someone to come save him, or maybe he simply couldn’t manage to do it and only though he did. Black. Then light again, the cassette’s sharp denta bringing him back conscious as they scratched against his nape and this time he was sure he could hear himself yelling so loud his audio receptors started to sting as well.  
It was over this time, wasn’t it? Claws digging into his white plating, jaws had a strong grip on his soft neck cables and a warm liquid under his chin made him realize there was really nothing else to do. Pulling Ravage away would have meant tearing away the cables, causing another and this time fatal leak. Ratchet offlined the optics again, coolant sliding down his cheeks. What a terrible way to leave. He knew this would have happened, but if he had to chose a way he would have preferred dying while saving someone’s life… shielding one of his teammates with his frame… not like this.  
He relaxed and waited to fall unconscious one last time. “Come on, just finish this already. It hurts.” he thought, probably trying to say it out loud, but his vocalizer wouldn’t have worked, it only let out a weak lament… too tired to even scream anymore.  
  
  
Cold and dark. That’s what he expected to feel while slowly being pulled away from this world. But how could he be aware of this? How could he still be functioning and how could he be feeling this? Was he still alive? The noises around him seemed so far away… all around a noise of sand brushing agains the rocks. No it wasn’t sand. It was rain. His frame was completely wet and he couldn’t feel the energon flowing out of his plating anymore, the pain was still there, stinging in his helm, neck cables and knees. He was still leaking and could tell that soon he would have been completely dry. Nobody saw him there. Nobody reached him, but it seemed the battle was over. No more yelling, no more bullets. The Deceptions were retreating? Possible. But it seemed that both factions started to retreat. Which was bad… it meant they both suffered a lot of damages and there he was, leaking dry on the ground in a pool of water and energon. The warm and bright sun covered in grey clouds, his optics way too tired to scan his surroundings. But when they flickered online as his audio receptors could hear something approaching and stopping in front of him, they managed to see a shape… two green and white legs, then a silver, round and pointy object, rain cleaning it from the last purple drops that stained it. A whimper escaped him, then a sudden rattle. He was there to finish him, wasn’t he? The Autobot frowned and lied his cheek down in the mud, clenching the denta and waiting for the Decepticon to crush him under his pedes. He literally had all the time to do this now he found him. He could have shot him, stabbed him… whatever he wanted. No one would have arrived in time and he couldn’t call for help. When nothing came, Ratchet felt his mouth falling open, his now green optics onlined again and he looked up at his rival. He was immobile, crimson visor glowing, rain crawling down his cheeks, the green and purple frame covered in dents, rain drops sliding into his seams. His expression was something unexpected, he wasn’t smirking as the white medic expected him to. He was serious, so cold he could almost shiver from that glance he was giving him… and maybe he did. What did he want to do? Watch him until the last drop of energon left his frame? Possible. “Just… Finish me.” he tried to sob, but nothing came out from his open mouth, not even a whimper. Nothing.  
  
He couldn’t tell when he fell unconscious this time but he understood he was no longer behind that rock, his back rubbing against a soft and dirt surface. He could look up in the sky, water hitting on his silver faceplates, sliding down his chin, crawling into his exposed throat cables. He saw his red servos tied together above his helm with a dark wire, his digits terribly damaged and twitching involuntary. He was being dragged away by the Constructicon and felt his spark spinning crazily fast inside of his chassis. Where was he taking him? He wanted to… bring him to his companion and use him as raw material for their constructions? He saw them trying to do it before, melting Autobots and using them to build something. He felt like crying again and scream. Why couldn’t he just kill him before doing this? They could have done whatever they wanted with him after this… but why did they have to be so cruel? And why did he think they would have spared a medic? He should have been ready to fight, expecting that seeker to shoot at him and be ready to fight back. While he didn’t even think about that. He has been an idiot and he was going to die in a terrible way. He began to shudder and tears of coolant started to roll down his cheeks again, mixing with the stains of dust and energon. Then he felt the other suddenly stopped, his servos being still held together up in the air and this time he did let out a startled whimper, already expecting to be lifted and stuffed into the Decepticon mixer. Oh please why couldn’t he lose senses now? Why did he need to be awake for this?  
His denta clenched tightly when strong and warmer digits wrapped around his jaw in a strong grip and he felt his whole frame trembling, green optics unable to focus on the other medical officer’s visor as he looked down at him. He probably winced and coughed, but couldn’t even say if he managed to murmur something… probably no. Probably he just remained quiet. And after all, what could he possibly say? Nothing. He should have simply remained quiet! There was nothing he could think of and as he felt his systems slowly growing tired he was only glad to be unconscious now the other lifted him up, probably walking over to his fellow Constructicons to get rid of him. Thank Primus he wouldn’t have felt any pain… It was the best thing that could happen to him at the moment.  
  
  
Hook tilted the helm to the side, silently observing the white bot as he slowly shuttered the optics again. The sea was right there, his olfactory receptors could smell salt mixing to the stronger scent of energon the mech was still losing from the many wounds that covered his whole frame. He silently wondered if it would have been the good decision taking him to the base… surely he would have been way more useful alive. So, was he still in time to save him? A familiar servo grabbed onto his shoulder and he slowly turned around, the rain falling faster and starting to get quite annoying, luckily his black helmet still protected his visor and could easily see Scrapper looking at him.  
«I am not going to pressure you and take decisions for you, Hook. But if you don’t want time to answer that question for you…» he said, pointing at the damaged neck cables of the Autobot «you’d better take a decision quickly!» he finished, voice loud enough to make the other hear, despite the drops hitting all around them and the high waves crashing against the rocks.  
They were the last Decepticons Astrotrain was waiting for, the rest of their gestalt mates were all inside. Scavenger was the only one who remained out while waiting, curiously looking at his leader and the crane as he wondered what were the two even talking about in such a moment! Before the triplechanger could huff his last complain, the two green mechs were running inside, Scrapper quickly grabbing the excavator from an arm and pulling him close as the approached him «Get in you fool!» he grumbled, quickly going to sit on the floor and shaking the sand, that now turned into mud, off his helm.  
The medic walked deeper and stopped further from the rest of his mates, releasing his prisoner and crouching down, immediately getting to work to stop the leaking. There was no need to make a perfect job now, the rest could have been done in the Med bay, at the moment he only cared bout letting him live.  
He tensed when Bonecrusher moved closer, he was not really in the mood to discuss why he did rescue the medic, why he cared instead of letting him die… but smiled softly once he heard him shouting «You mind your own and fly!» as Astrotrain complained about having to clean his insides from all that mud and energon of a filthy useless Autobot.  
_“Hook, do you want us to talk to Megatron about this?”_ the crane heard Scrapper’s voice through the gestalt bond, but tried to ignore the question this time. He didn’t even think about that… he completely ignored this eventuality and a frustrated hiss left his vocalizer.  
_“Hey don’t worry. We understand this, it’s not your fault.”_ Scavenger crouched next to him, shovel tail curling up _“we’re just surprised, that’s all”_. Surprised… yes. He could feel their confusion crawling inside his chest plates since he stepped inside, dragging the wounded mech in… and it only grew stronger when he started to work to close the broken energon lines.           
«Doesn’t happen often…» Long Haul said out loud, but remained distant, not very interested in making the other lose his temper in case he realized to be surrounded by mechs while he worked. They all knew how nervous he could get with an undesired audience. He really liked to talk about how good and perfect he was at his job, showing everyone his skills… but there ware some moments when he wanted to stay alone! The excavator wasn’t ignoring this, it was simply way too difficult for him staying calm and distant when he could feel a wave of distress coming form one of his mates. But he did nothing to bother the companion, he simply stood there and watched him working.  
  
«Hook» he called when the other put away his tools and looked at him, a light hint of annoyance mixing with the anguish they all received through the bond, and at this point Bonecrusher considered the  idea to take the smaller mech away. But Scavenger moved slightly further from his mate, understanding he wouldn’t have appreciated being touched on the cut under his shoulder as he was actually thinking to do «Uh.. I was just, worried about you. You’ll have so much work to do today-».   
Scrapper grabbed him softly from the tail, stopping him from talking as Mixmaster shrugged «Oh come on Scavenger, I may not be a doctor, I’m a scientist, a chemist, yes a chemist, chemist! But I know something about medicine and surgery… I’ll get to work too this time» he slid closer to Hook and put a hand on his arm «While I’ll leave this to you if that’s what you wish.» he added, pointing at the white mech on the floor. The crane nodded, moving slowly to nuzzle the other’s cheek, purring lightly to silently thank him for understanding quickly what he wanted this time. Then slowly went to observe the Autobot next to him. Still unconscious? Good. The last thing he wanted was to hear him whimper like he did before while he was being dragged away. Not that he blamed him, no… he was in a pretty bad shape and it obviously hurt him everywhere. But he simply didn’t need to hear him now. The scientist next to him rubbed his dented helmet against his own, some mud being scrathed off from them both as he smiled, feeling relaxed and safer now they were all together. He then stood up and left, taking Scavenger with himself and the two hugged each other, a long green tail curling up again. Hook sighed lightly, he didn’t mean to be rude with the excavator… he was just too stressed to be softer.  
It surely didn’t help his medical instincts had to push him to pick up that stupid Autobot and take him away. But after all, it couldn’t be as bad… they could make good use of this prisoner. A quite expert medic was surely more useful than some impertinent and young soldier. It just.. why did it have to be him? There was another medic in the Ark. He saw him once. Young and not as skilled, but he would have made sure to use his talent in the best way. This here instead… well, he couldn’t tell what exactly bothered him. Maybe because he knew him for way too long, has been his rival for so much time… even if they barely interacted with each other during all these stellar cycles. They always stood in the back, healing their wounded teammates and both probably wondering if the opposite faction had a doctor who was able to deal with everything they had to fix every time if they would have been at their place. He even remembered that time Blitzwing and Prowl almost killed each other and both factions had to retreat immediately. He remembered how stressed he got, both Bonecrusher and Long Haul busy keeping a panicking Astrotrain out of the Med bay. He was always very vain and believed in himself and his abilities, but every time deep inside he always wondered if he was actually able to fix every wound he had to take care of. That time he was constantly asking himself that damn question, if he would have managed to make the triplechneger turn back to fight in time... and if the other medic would have been faster, better. He would have felt terrible knowing Prowl recovered faster! Luckily Scrapper slapped him so hard that his processor immediately focused on the pain and started to reason once again on his job. He wasn’t angry, he just couldn’t stand to have him sending all these waves of panic through the bond… they weren’t used to those. And then… he really had no time to lose asking himself these questions and let anxiety take over while he had to work on such a delicate operation! After that slap his leader came back when he was finally done working, now sitting tired at the desk, and then curled his digits around his shoulders and after removing his mask, he rubbed his lips against his faceplates, engines purring and silently apologized for putting so much strength into that strike. But if he had to be honest that wasn’t even too much, it was just what he needed to turn back in control of his emotions.  
  
This time they weren’t risking to lose anything, but the Autobot were well prepared as always and they’ve been losing too much time and their purpose was the one to turn back as best as the could and quickly recover. So that the next solar cycle they could have attacked that Oil Platform and finally get some energon they actually needed with a certain urgency, without having those annoying fools and the Prime trying to stop them at least this time. The crane huffed nervously. They were all fine, except for the two cassette twins, no one reported big injuries. Honestly, the only mech who would have needed immediate repairs was the ambulance on the floor. But he could perfectly wait. Soundwave wouldn’t have been so patient, especially he wouldn’t have been nice to deal with him if he came to knew he intended to take care of an enemy before his dear cassettes. And he had all the rights to get angry, really.  
When Astrotrain let them all get out, now safe in the base underwater, the crane picked up the white medic and started to run down the hallway. He didn’t want to talk to Megatron and didn’t want to give explanations to any mech that asked him what he wanted to do with that ‘bot. And of course he had to feel their optics on him, but luckily having Long Haul standing next to him made him feel a little more shielded from those curious glances. Sure, until he eventually found himself in front of Megatron. He bowed the helm and bit his lower lip, silently cursing his usual luck. Well, he had to tell him sooner or later.  
The silver grounder looked down at the unconscious mech in his arms, remained quiet for a coupld of nanokliks then shook the helm «Soundwave’s cassettes are already waiting in the med bay, Hook.» and after hearing these words, the Constructicon ran past the taller grounder to get out of this situation as fast as he could. That was all he needed to go away. Scrapper moved closer to their leader and bowed the helm «Sir…» he resetted his vocalizer, ready to start to explain, but Megatron stopped him «Is the prisoner still alive?» he asked then turned towards him once Hook ran around a corner and disappeared from their view «or do you have other plans for that autobot, Scrapper?» he added.  
«He’s alive and… No, not this time sir.» he calmly answered «I believe my Second in Command may have planned to… slow down a bit further the Autobots recovery from our last raid.». Sure, he was lying, Hook never said something like that, but it was the truth! They had a missing medic this time, they wouldn't have turned back in action as fast as they usually did!  
His leader nodded slowly « About the prisoner... he is now his responsibility. Understood, Scrapper?» and this sentence alone managed to surprise the Construticon leader. Megatron simply.. accepted this and from what he said, he seemed to have already understood what pushed Hook to take him away instead of killing him. «Yes, sir.» he said. «Besides, he could turn out to be quite useful to us. Tell him to keep him alive.» and after he ordered that he simply turned around, leaving him and the rest of his gestalt alone.  
«Well…» he shrugged and looked at Mixmaster «You go help Hook in the med bay. As for the rest of you…» he then started to walk to their quarters before finishing «we go get clean to get all this mud off, quickly. We know how to repair ourselves. Let's not bother those two tonight.»

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hn... no. Not canon. Canon is weak.  
> And I like this ship, silence. I know now I finished a story I could focus on the other one but i don't care-  
> I like to have a lot of stuff to do to ruin my existence.
> 
> Also, not very explicit now. It'll get explicit. Later. Very later.


	2. Fears and Drugs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: this chapter contains graphic description of medicinal drug use and surgery. It's robot gore and theres nothing organic. Nothing at all, but some people may still not wnat to deal with these things. You've been warned. 
> 
> \--
> 
> Units of time:
> 
>  
> 
> 1 Nanoklik - 1 second
> 
> 1 Cycle - 1 minute and 30 seconds
> 
> 1 Joor - 1 hour
> 
> 1 Solar Cycle - 1 day
> 
> 1 Deca Cycle - 10 days
> 
> 1 Stellar Cyle - 1 year
> 
> 1 Vorn - 80 years

The cold feeling of the dirt ground and the sharp, freezing wind on his damaged plating seemed to be completely gone in the moment Ratchet began to slowly wake up. But the strong pain he felt practically through his whole frame was still there and so was the uncomfortable feeling of the drops of rain and energon staining his plating, but just partially this time. It almost felt like he was beginning to get dried, now located in a way warmer area. Every noise he could hear seemed distant, as if his helm was now somehow underwater and every sound came from the surface and had difficulties reaching his audio receptors. But he could tell he was in a closed place, not outside anymore. Not only because of the absence of wind, but because those small noises seemed to be echoing through a hallway and didn’t get lost in the air. This couldn’t possibly be an illusion… he was sure this feeling was something real, which meant he didn’t die yet. He was somehow still alive. How much time has even passed since he fell unconscious for the last time? Was he in the Ark again? Could it be possible somebody did manage to save him from the… from who again? A stinging pain in his helm made the white mech clench his denta tightly, momentarily having to stop thinking and trying to focus on relaxing, as much as he could in such a confused situation. But trying to remember seemed to hurt him even more.    
When the helm ache seemed to have stopped, Ratchet calmly tried to think about what happened a second time, but he soon realized it still was extremely hard to focus. As if the burning ache he woke up with wasn’t already enough for him, he soon noticed that as the cycles passed by, yes he could seem to process the situation a bit more easily, but at the same time the pain grew stronger. And it was practically everywhere: inside of his frame, on the energon lines, the broken glass on his chest, his soft neck cables, on his servos, on the knee joints…! No, actually it didn’t grow stronger… he knew he felt much worse in the moment those wounds were inflicted. His sensors were simply waking up again and registering every single scratch and dent. But at least now he could reason again, Ratchet didn’t take much to understand what happened after he fell unconscious the last time and where he was at the moment. He scanned himself very quickly just to make sure no other injuries has been added and luckily, he found only those same damages and worryingly low energy levels. The leaking has been somehow stopped in a very rough way, as if the one who worked did what he could in the shortest time possible. Just to save his life before it could be too late. But the damaged lines hurt so much despite being closed and he clenched his denta again, too afraid to make a sound and attract the attention of whoever was there in the same area with him. Even if he knew very well he would have soon received a lot of undesired attention. These sounds… this surface… this wasn’t the Ark and he didn’t need to online his optics to see it. This was a Med bay, yes… the smell of medical energon and disinfectant, the beeping of machineries and consoles he used to keep in his own infirmary made him understand that. He could hear unknown voices now, only confirming his thoughts: he was in Decepticon base, inside their Med bay and currently placed on top of a medical berth probably. He couldn’t recognize the voice of who has been talking and honestly didn’t care about finding out. He didn’t understand a damn thing of what this someone talked about, but in that flow of words that reached his audio receptors he could only hear the word “Autobot” and his engine rumbled nervously. They were talking about him then. And he only knew one thing at the moment: if they kept thinking he was unconscious, they wouldn’t have went to bother him. But he couldn’t help the fact his engine began to make so much noise in panic, his intakes became faster and irregular despite how much he tried to pretend to be still into stasis. And now he knew that even without onlining the optics, the mechs there with him would have noticed he was awake… if not the patients or whoever was there, the Decepticon doctor would have understood that for sure. And he probably already did notice.  
  
Yes, their doctor. The Constructicon crane, Hook. The Autobot tried to remember what happened since the first time he woke up in the mud, when the rain hit against his frame and the black cassette left him there in a pool of energon and water, alone. One of the Decepticons approached his immobile frame and instead of finishing him, he remained still staring down at him. He put together the memories and images of that moment, white and green, purple… the digits grabbing on his chin and the bright red visor staring into his tired optics. Yes, it was Hook. It really was him. The Autobot shivered, now conscious enough to realize he has been strapped down on one of the berth of the Constructicon’s Med bay, in fact as he tried to move even very slowly not to make everyone notice, he felt his limbs impossible to move. Was it possible it seemed like there would have always been a worse way to get killed every time he thought he imagined the worse thing? At first he thought they would have let him leak dry under the rain, then imagined they decided to use him as raw material and melt him into the mixer Constructicon… but apparently there was indeed much worse than that. Hook… with all the mechs that could have found him and decided to keep him as a prisoner… it had to be that crazy surgeon? He was going to turn him into his own test subject, wasn’t he? A new toy he could use to do all his experiments, remove his digits… attach a weapon onto his arm, use him as a spare parts donor or… or whatever horrors that mech could think of. Sure they would have also tried to get some information about the other Autobots or use him as a hostage. But honestly, the Decepticons weren’t known to release prisoners once they became useless… not alive at least. The pain in his knees and neck cables became almost unbearable as he thought about all this and he struggled to keep quiet. He could still hope the other imagined he was still into stasis and that he simply had a very bad recharge due to the pain all those wounds caused him… He could only hope he was way too busy to notice he was very much awake.  
  
  
Busy? Well yes, Hook sure was busy at the moment. He’s been taking care of the two red and blue cassettes, repairing their legs, that seemed to be stuck in a position after a way too strong hit when one of the Autobots literally ran into them in vehicle mode. He had no intention to get distracted watching the ambulance strapped on the berth while working on them. All the Decepticons knew how worried could Soundwave get when it was about his little assistant’s safety. They were everything for him and he would have gave his life to protect every single one of his cassettes, and he felt terrible when they got injured. He somehow felt like he hasn’t done enough to take care of them. And now they were in this situation, he wanted the Constructicon medic to make sure they were going to be fine, completely fine and that except for that problem in their limbs, there was nothing wrong. And the carne assured the Telepath he would have kept the two in the Med bay for all the other routine checks and more specific controls. The Third in Command was an important mech and his mental state was even more important for the faction’s safety. Without his cold and calculating processor, they would have often found themselves in terrible situations.  
Sure he couldn’t deny he wished those two little spies to stay still for at least two cycles. They never liked staying so long under examination and soon began to complain, causing to make him get distracted and taking longer to complete tests that would have usually took him no longer than three cycles. He would have preferred having enough time to check everyone’s conditions but it really seemed like these two were going to keep him busy.  
Luckily Mixmaster offered to help him… sure he didn’t need to do much other than some minor repairs. What only bothered the medic was that his patients didn’t seem to trust him so much as they would have trusted him instead. All because of the stupid rumors about him being a crazy scientist, obsessed with melting everything he touched and blowing up his little laboratory. Mixmaster was a scientist, yes. And he wasn’t crazy. Easy calling crazy someone just because of the way he acted and didn’t even remember who was the real cause of all those times the laboratory exploded. Those two little spies’ pranks for example. And also because he worked so much he tired himself and fell asleep on the desk, alright true but very rarely. They all thought it was so easy doing his job? He was a genius just as much as he was! He was always ready to fix every single crack and hole that created in the walls of the ship, always ready to take care of the patients and create the perfect medicine for everyone when they needed it, dosing every chemical with accuracy basing his calculations on the size, weight and conditions of every single mech in the base! He was loyal to the cause and just wanted to help everyone. Or he wouldn’t be there trying to reattach Thust’s leg plating at the moment… And being very careful while working too! He didn’t hear one single complain while he worked…  only before he could get to work he heard many. Idiots not wanting him to touch them, too afraid to explode or melt… They all whined before and while they were getting fixed they all shut the mouth. Luckily.  
  
Except for that one problem that had Hook having to hear these imbeciles complaining about his mate, a thing the medic really did appreciate while working, was hearing the other mechs talking. It could seem to be a contradiction, but not everyone focused only on the scientist. They always talked about the battle when they turned back in the base… sure he often told them to use a lower tone, not wanting to distract him while he obviously had to focus on something more important, especially because a Med bay wasn’t a room where they could talk and chat and laugh. But he was kept informed about what happened during the battle, since while he was himself in the battlefield, he couldn’t see everything that happened. When he merged with the others forming Devastator, he had a clearer view of what happened, especially when all his gestalt mates shared the few information they collected while fighting during the few cycles before they all combined. It was necessary for them to fuse together in one being and avoid to create confusion in his processor. Devastator wasn’t stupid, like many Autobots and even some Decepticons thought. He wasn’t even just six mechs working together. He was a new mech, formed indeed by other six that worked in perfect sync through a bond that tied them all together like one. There was a reason why they loved to form him and why they wished to stay combined even in other occasions and not just to fight. There was no kind of interface that could make them feel the same way. Devastator’s personality wasn’t an uncontrolled mix of all their characteristics fused together. No. He was a very touchy mech, yes. Who couldn’t stand to be betrayed and played with. He didn’t stand to be used as a weapon and disrespected. He was a soldier, just like all the others. A powerful soldier who didn’t know just fighting and destroying, despite his name could suggest something else. Devastator did consider himself powerful but not… messy. No. He was careful and his power controlled properly, precise. He looked always angry just because the others seemed to consider him like an object, a non sentient being that could only be used when they were having trouble during a fight. But he never rebelled completely because his loyalty for the cause was stronger than the anger he could feel for being disrespected. Megatron respected him instead. He may have seemed uncaring but it was quite the opposite. And it was also the same reason why he felt so good around Menasor.  
Hook at first couldn’t believe that those five idiots could be able to form a combiner and work in perfect sync as well. Motormaster wasn’t like Scrapper. He was leader of his team, sure… but he was so mean with his teammates. He often scared them, he shouted at them and hurt them. He even wondered how could that drone work well with them too. He was… a drone after all. But somehow, the purple truck seemed so attached to Roller Car, more than he was with any other mates of his. Which was quite weird. The black car has been created to protect Motormaster’s spark. That was his only duty. Every time during a fight, the small drone jumped out of the trailer and took every attack that would have injured his leader’s chassis instead. That little drone was the one who always needed more repairs.  
Probably, the Stunticons’ relationship wasn’t as weird and toxic as he imagined. Maybe that merciless truck somehow managed to show his teammates some affection in his own way. That had to be, or they wouldn’t have created their own combiner. If Devastator considered himself the best soldier in the Decepticons ranks, Menasor could be even more full of himself if possible. But he wasn’t mean. He somehow managed to be even more calm than their own combiner. He was younger and has spent less time being called “weapon” from his own teammates.  But it was obvious he didn’t appreciate this situation neither. Which was probably the reason why him and Devastator got along so well. It seemed incredible. Constructicons and Stunticons couldn’t even see each other for too long before they began to argue for some stupid reason. Hook admitted that sometimes it was even their own fault, not being enough patient with a group of mechs who had a lot of mental problems. But Menasor and Devastator loved to stay with each other. If one was tired and always stressed when called to fight, the younger combiner managed to make him calm down every time simply showing respect and reminding him he wasn’t alone being treated like that. While he didn’t consider him just like a weapon and they both often desired to spend more time together, not necessarily during a fight.  
  
When they all separated to turn back in six units, both teams never ever mentioned anything about these situations, about these bonding moments the two had maybe right after a battle or before it could start. It almost seemed like these situations were nothing more than a fantasy, what the humans called a dream. It was almost comic. United they loved each other while separated the two teams couldn’t stand each other. Never.  
The crane was sure they even tried to get closer to each other once. But it didn’t seem to work, somehow. No one admitted that but he wasn’t an idiot. He could tell when someone was trying to create a bond and struggling to stay calm without running away embarrassed. He remembered that time Drag Strip slid in the Med bay and tried to communicate with him. It didn’t end well but not as bad as how things went with Bonecrusher and Wildrider. Oh no. Let’s not even think about it. Motormaster and Scrapper both tried to bond during a meeting. With all the places and moments they could chose…! Mixmaster found it funny, while Hook was tempted to go grab his leader and drag him away. The tension was so thick they could have cut a cube of it with a blade! Scavenger and Dead End seemed the only two who seemed to be getting along a bit… a small bit better than the others. And the doctor was sure their only good dialogue would have been about digging graves and how deep the car should have needed to make the hole if he intended to get buried underground one day. That depressed Stunticon needed a psychologist but he seriously had no damn time to go listen to all his problems.  
He decided to stop thinking about this when Breakdown walked in the Med bay and turned back focusing on the two cassettes, then grumbled when he heard the mech running around the table to hide from his mate. With all the mechs who needed to get repaired today… the red and blue spies giggled, staring at the scientist chasing the other while holding a syringe he probably forgot to put down. The crane slammed both his servos on the desk and looked nervously at the two with a flaming visor. They both stopped. His mate may have noticed to be holding a dangerous object and quickly put it away, then shrugged and grinned at him. «Breakdown» the medic huffed «go sit on the berth and let him examine you if you don’t want me to get angry and do it instead.» he warned.  
And the other must have realized that despite he didn’t trust the scientist as much, his mood at the moment seemed way better than his. Which seemed to be enough to have him sitting down and letting Mixmaster get to work to repair the broken glass of his window.  
  
  
«Come on doc!» Rumble huffed all of the sudden «We’re fine now! Fixed, good as new. Ready to go back to Soundwave-» he kicked his legs while sitting, as if to prove he was feeling fine at the moment. Frenzy nodded «Yes. You can send us back to the boss now-» but the green mech shook the helm «Soundwave’s worried about your conditions.» he simply answered.  
«Ah! When is he not?» the red cassette murmured «But we’re fixed. We work-» then stared at the white ambulance for a moment, tilting the helm to the side. And the medic saw him getting all curious, so he was ready to receive questions in a couple of cycles… or nanokliks. «Look at him. Doesn’t he need more repairs, instead?» nanokliks, indeed.  
«He does, thank to your brother.» was the quick reply and the other cassette quickly stood up on the desk «Hey! It was Bitstream’s fault too!» he shouted, which only made the crane huff in annoyance. «Yes, but did Ravage really need to leave him in those conditions because he got shot once?» he asked, now putting down a data pad he’s been reading, which contained all the dates of all the exams he did to the two. «He was angry. Plus he’s an enemy. Why did you even need to pick him up?». He tilted the helm «Does Soundwave want to know that or is it a personal curiosity?» he asked the two instead «because I thought our Communication officer was already aware of my coding».  
The blue spy crossed his arms «Uh, he probably knows I guess-» then pointed at the Autobot «anyway! He needs repairs more than we do, why didn’t you go work on him? Didn’t you see him moving? He’s awake!»    
The Constructicon looked over at the white frame on the berth and noticed that even Breakdown seemed quite curious as well now. The medic stretched lightly and went to clean a sharp tool before placing it again on a small table «Because you think I’m not aware of that?» he asked. The car sitting down began to move away from his mate again, as if he suddenly decided to leave the Med bay and even the ambulance shivered lightly once he talked. Probably the Stunticon was afraid he decided to operate and after seeing all those sharp objects, he decided it was better leaving or at least look away. He never liked to be awake when he worked on him. Understandable. He was scared of everything and having to see these things when he didn’t want to… well, it could make him feel bad.  
  
«Why don’t you two… » Hook started, talking again to the cassettes after he picked up a syringe and started to examine it in case it got damaged while Mixmaster ran around the table «why don’t you and Breakdown leave to turn back to your bosses?» he finished, now sure Mixmaster was done fixing the other. The three remained quiet for a couple of nanokliks, then the car stood up and almost ran to the exit while the two cassettes jumped off the desk happily «It means you’re done, yes finally!» Rumble yelled, running after the brother, who was already almost outside.  
Ah, finally he could get to work on the Autobot and have some quiet in his Med bay. Mixmaster moved closer to him, pushing the table with all his tools closer to the berth were the ambulance has been lied down, then took a dry cloth and began to wipe away the remaining stains of energon and mud from his white frame. The crane smiled lightly and moved closer, putting the syringe down close to the other instruments for a moment and observing his patient. Apparently his mate decided to stay and help him even for this. Sometimes he admitted he preferred being alone and left to work in peace, but this time he surely wouldn’t have minded to have him there and passing him the tools he needed. Plus, they didn’t even need to talk, Mixmaster would have understood what he wanted through their gestalt bond.  
With a servo, he grabbed on the white mech’s chin, carefully tilting his helm back and onto one side to have a better view of the damaged cables. As soon as his digits touched his jaw, the ambulance winced and a low hiss left his vocalizer, escaping from his clenched denta. The scientist tilted the helm «He’s…» he whispered as he went to go take a bottle of a pale yellow fluid from a shelf and handing it to his mate. «He’s awake… yes» Hook confirmed, taking the empty syringe a second time. «For a while actually. He tried to pretend to be still unconscious.» the medic added, fitting the metallic needle inside the bottle and gathering the liquid inside of the glass cylinder until it was full.  
  
  
Ratchet could swear to hear his own spark spinning like crazy inside of his chassis. Of course the doctor knew he was awake, it was his job and just because he was a Decepticon, it didn’t mean he was an idiot. Quite the opposite actually. Hook managed to put back together all those mechs they sent back injured and broken after they retreated. It took him something like… not even two solar cycles and they all returned to fight as strong as ever! He began to shake uncontrollably when he felt the green mech’s servos on his side and a strong light being switched on, positioned right above of him. He didn’t notice they opened a panel on his side and attached a tube against it that slowly filled him with energon when he woke up, but only now that enough time has passed. Apparently they didn’t want him to leak dry of course. He felt the other grabbing onto it and pushing it out of the way, making sure it remained attached while he did that. Then he slowly dared to online his optics, now no longer trying to restrain the choked sounds of pain when he tried to move a second time. A strong light didn’t let him see so much of what was happening. But he could spot the tall frame of the Decepticon medic there next to him, just in the moment when he started to approach a syringe over to his faceplates. Ratchet whimpered and instinctively moved his helm to the other side, trying to keep that needle away. Wrong move. He opened his mouth to scream but only a choked sound came out of it. He shouldn’t have moved his damaged cables like that. Then a cold servo grabbed onto his chin again and forced him to return into the original position, not violently but very careful if he had to be honest. The ambulance could see clearly the crane’s red visor, he was there above him staring into his tired green-blue optics with that same cold and serious expression of that moment when he lied in the mud.  
It was scary. What scared him more was that he didn’t seem to be having fun. He seemed to be trying to work and with no intentions to hurt him. Then Ratchet saw the syringe moving closer to himself a second time and tried to struggle free from the other’s grip. He didn’t want anything injected into his frame, he didn’t want that mech to touch him and open him and do whatever he intended to do to him in that moment. But he had no energy to fight back, he realized it when the needle pierced through his soft neck cables, a light and at the same time burning pain getting added to all he has been feeling in that moment. Then a warm sensation, he could practically feel that unknown fluid running through his lines, quickly flowing from the throat down to his chest and shoulders.  
  
Hook carefully pulled the syringe away, placing it down on the table and quickly returning to focus on his patient after that. He tilted the helm to the side and moved one of his long digits on those silver faceplates when he spotted a drop of coolant sliding down the Autobot’s cheek. He cleaned the wet trail it left behind with the tip of his digit and sighed softly. This mech wasn’t a stupid youngling, afraid of surgery or needles. No, but he was scared. He was scared of being operated by him. Could he blame him for that? No. Seriously, he couldn’t. He was an enemy and he was known to be not as gentle with prisoners. He was known to work as interrogator too, not just as a skilled surgeon. And now that poor Autobot had no idea what he decided to do, what his role was at the moment. And at the moment the Constructicon had no intention to hurt him. Sure something would have hurt, that anesthetic couldn’t do miracles and just to make sure his rival would have understood his intentions, he decided not to put him into stasis, but leave him awake and aware of would have happened. He was a doctor, despite not being able to feel everything, his internal scanner would have let him know what he decided to work on, without risking to make him feel pain and scare him for nothing. Some mechs wouldn’t have liked to be awake and feel their inside getting touched by a medic. Most of them wanted to be completely unconscious, let him work and wake up only later when everything was already over.  
But this Autobot was a doctor too, he would have understood everything that was happening to him without getting afraid. What Hook feared was that he would have took this like some sort of cruel game. Yes, it was possible he would have misunderstood his intentions. But at the moment he could only hope the other understood, despite that medicine would have somehow started to make it quite difficult for him to reason properly.  
He shrugged and grabbed a tool from the table once he was sure his patient wouldn’t have felt any pain, then opened his chest plating, completely removing the remaining glass and re-opened the closed lines he managed to close quickly while they flew back to the base on Astrotrain. As he expected, the ambulance shivered and tried to speak again, but was way too weak to compose a proper sentence. Mixmaster passed him a long  pair of pliers, and he carefully started to cut the too damaged parts of the lines, causing them to leak a little but promptly stiffed a thin tube inside, which immediately sucked away the purple liquid before it could slide too deep inside of the frame and cause some damages. Then he slowly started to fuse the open line back together, closing it properly and leaving just a clean cut after he was done.  
  
Ratchet was confused, he didn’t understand what was exactly happing. What he felt was a mix of fear and relief that kept mixing together as he felt the surgeon’s servos inside of his damaged frame. He felt him only barely, the long digits rubbing lightly against his insides, the drops of warm energon sliding down into the metal and wires and being sucked away right after. His optics felt tired, his processor was somehow unable to focus properly on the situation. There wasn’t any pain if he had to be honest. But it felt weird. He felt like he wanted to talk, tell him to stop even if he knew what was happening wasn’t something bad. The Constructicon was simply working on him and fixing him. This wasn’t a torture, it wasn’t an interrogation and it wasn’t some kind of devious game. He was left awake during this operation, but he wasn’t feeling any kind of pain. And he didn’t understand why his tears didn’t seem to stop. He wasn’t scared of being operated. But he was scared of him. He could do what he wanted at the moment, start to take out all the important parts of his frame, cut some big energon line and make him die in a terribly painful way, burn his cables… he could do what he wanted and this fear was driving him crazy. Ratchet knew Hook was doing nothing bad, he knew that. He knew when someone was making him leak to repair an injury or trying to cause him even more pain. He felt someone else’s servo moving closer to his faceplates and cleaning his cheeks from the coolant that didn’t stop running down from his optics.  
Then the Decepticon medic began to work on his throat cables and this time the pain was a bit more clear. He felt the stinging pain reaching his processor in a nanoklik. He wasn’t sure if the Constructicon did it on purpose but he probably didn’t. Such a delicate place, it was obvious it had to hurt him a little. But at least he was getting fixed quite well, the lines got closed properly and after that, they stopped hurting so much. Sure it may have been thank to the anesthetic too, but he could still feel the difference from before.

When he let a whimper escape his vocalizer the moment the medic grabbed his servos and began to open the soft plating of his palm, he felt those digits grabbing onto his chin once again. He couldn’t stand that pain, somehow even the liquid he injected him didn’t seem strong enough for that. His servos were too sensitive and it already has been almost impossible standing the pain since he woke up, now this was getting too strong. It was embarrassing. He was a medic and he was behaving like a scared mech who had no idea what was going on. But seriously, who could blame him at the moment? He was under the effect of a drug that confused his processor, strapped down on a berth inside the Decepticon base while their medic worked on his damaged frame. The fear of getting hurt and tortured after his situation would have returned stable was making everything much worse. «No-not my servos…» he managed to stutter in a low whisper. So low he wasn’t sure how much the constructicon could hear. But apparently he heard well, in fact he felt the crane releasing his wrist and caressing softly onto his cheek. «Ratchet.» he heard him calling him, with his actual name! He expected to be addressed as “Autobot” actually. He didn’t think the other bothered to use and remember his real name. Then after another soft stroke against his helm, the crane added «I do not want to cut off your servos, if that’s what you're afraid I'll do to you.» then his digits moved away, wrapping around his wrist once again. Was he afraid to lose his servos? Yes. Yes he was. The pain he felt made him feel like it was exactly what the other wanted to do to him, but he could tell the pain was only caused by all the damaged wires. He slowly nodded, without moving the helm too much not to hurt himself and shuttered the optics, clenching the denta and waiting for the other to finish what he started.  
How much time has passed when the other finally stopped working, he had no idea. Hook was finally done putting him back together it seemed. His knee joints go attached to his legs properly, all the broken energon lines got reattached properly, his digits fixed and despite they still hurt terribly they seemed to be in a way better condition than before.  
All he felt before finally falling into stasis due to the low energy levels was a servo lying gently against his cheek and thumb stroking softly right under his optic. Then everything turned blurry and faded into black one more time.   

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And I finally add a chapter. Finally! It took me ages and I love this shipping, I should write more but there's also the other story...! 
> 
> Yes yes, in this story my headcanon is that Roller Car is actually important. He should be the drone that takes Black Jack's place on Menasor's chest. He's a small little black mech with red visor and white faceplates. The rest is all black. And he's little, he's a drone and somehow Motormaster loves him a lot. Protective of the one who is actually built to protect him-
> 
> ...And yes I ship Menasor and Devastator, what do you want?? Oh!


	3. Anesthetic restraints

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: this chapter contains graphic description of medicinal drug use and mentions of rape/non-con. It's just mentioned, it doesn't happen and didn't happen. I know that just mentioning it could make some people feel uncomfortable. So you have been warned.
> 
> \--
> 
> Units of time:
> 
>  
> 
> 1 Nanoklik - 1 second
> 
> 1 Cycle - 1 minute and 30 seconds
> 
> 1 Joor - 1 hour
> 
> 1 Solar Cycle - 1 day
> 
> 1 Deca Cycle - 10 days
> 
> 1 Stellar Cyle - 1 year
> 
> 1 Vorn - 80 years

All work was practically done by the end of the solar cycle. The only two Decepticons who reported big damage were the cassette twins and by the noises and laughs he could hear out in the hallway, Rumble and Frenzy were both feeling much better after he finished his work on them. Now they probably just discovered some nice information to report to Soundwave and were looking for him.  
All the others were feeling good and the ones who were to leave and reach an oil platform Megatron choose as their first target, were in recharge for a very long time, saving their energy to fly out that night. And Starscream was leading them in this mission apparently.  
All this was information he gained while Mixmaster fixed all the mechs that needed a few after that raid to the Autobot base, which went very well. And considering the fact they now held prisoner their expert medic, the Autobots wouldn’t possibly have had time to stop them, so they foudn out they had time to gather more energy than what the thought. It was rare things went so smoothly for the Deceoticon cause lately.  
  
The crane placed a cleaned scalpel next to the others, ready to be used and turned to look at the white mech on the berth. Megatron still didn’t send someone to take him away to bring him to Vortex for interrogation, or simply in a cell where he could go speak to their captive personally once he woke up. Sure, it was way too early to consider him out of danger and throwing him in a cell wouldnt have been the best thing to do. And about interrogation... they really didn't need to know anything in particular at the moment. The Constructicon Second in Command imagined that this mech would have been way more useful if kept away from his team, so he was almost sure the ex-gladiator didn't intend to negotiate with Optimus Prime neither. So at the moment he could only imagine the warlord not there in the med bay just because he was probably busy talking to his first lieutenant about.. that would have started soon from what he heard.  
  
Also, it didn’t even happen that often anymore to have a prisoner in the base. The last one has been a bright red frontliner, victim of his own bravery… or stupidity is you asked Hook. Apaprently, he crashed on the ground while riding one of the seekers. The bot has been found by the end of that solar cycle by Wildrider and Drag Strip, he had half of his frame under the dust and an arm separated from the shoulder. Luckily for him, his team found and captured the flier instead, who fell far from the lamborghini. So, Megatron- well… Megatron convinced by Starscream, accepted to negotiate with Optimus to release the two soldiers.  
  
That one time things went differently thoigh. As soon as the two young soldiers brought him to the base, the young soldier got his arm reattached and the wond on his helm repaired, but got quikly brougth away from the surgeon. He was kept in a cell for just two solar cycles after that, without receiving more medical attention and nobody except for Megatron had the responisibility to keep an eye on him.  
Of course, there was Vortex, but the Combacticon didn’t do more than tormenting the Autobot, who in the end risked to have his faceplates split in half as he almost bit off the helicopter’s fingers when he was poked on the black horns. Yes, only in that occasion Hook was sent there to fix him once again. But nothing more. Nobody really offered to be in charge of the Autobot. And not even Megatron assigned his task to someone... no even to Soundwave.  
  
  
He was distracted by those thoughts when Mixmaster offered to wipe away all the stains of energon that covered his arms  and those drops of dry rain and mud that he didn't manage to reach as he quickly cleaned himself before he could start to operate.  
The scientist surely knew how much the crane loved to have someone carefully running a cloth on his plating, getting rid of all those stains of dirt. So even if Hook simply shook the helm at that offer, he simply kept going, grinning once he saw the tense plating relaxing at least a little under his touch. He then leaned closer to the medic’s audio receptors and purred «Don’t lie to your lovely gestalt mates, Hook. I know how much you like this. You like this, this!» and giggled as he passed the cloth over his chassis, slowly moving it in circles to reach close to the neck cables.  
Hook really didn’t remember having stains on that part of his frame, but couldn’t simply bring himself to say that out loud. Those strokes were just too good to make them leave.    
  
Despite that, he still felt uncomfortable somehow. And saying things were going fine for once…! They attacked the Autobots that early afternoon and by the evening they managed to make quite a lot of damage, even thank to the strong rain that put their rivals in trouble. And that would have kept them out of the way that whole night. They even captured their medic, so there was no way they could have recovered so quickly!  
Yes... their medic. It was that damn white ambulance the real problem unsolved! He didn't knwo what was going to happen to him. They had a hostage, damn it! Why nobody went to tell him anything yet? He was done working and wanted to recharge for a couple of joors before Starscream retured, since hw would have obviously needed to check on some of them after the mission. Nobody went to tell him anything and he couldn't recharge yet! Nobody-  
  
«Hook» Scarpper walked inside and looked over at his mate, who seemed to be having an internal crisis, arguing with his own thoughts probably. Despite that, everything was in complete order, tools back at their place, no sign of oil or energon on the tables and berths. Wich was wird. When Hook was this nervous it was usually because he felt uncomfortable after so much work the office and med bay were reduced to a literal mess. The constructicon leader hummed and noticed how the mixer kept wiping at the surgeon's shoulders, obviously aware of how tense he was and trying to make him relax.  
  
«Yes, yes. You want me to recharge a bit, it's late, it's night» The medic huffed, visor flashing nevously «don’t you come tell me when it's time to rest, Scrapper. You’re the one who needs to be dragged away from the desk every time before you collapse on the blueprints.»  
He never fell into stasis because he tired himself out! Damnit, he was a medic, he knew his limits! and his limits were… well, considerably impressive. But it was normal he could stand to be awake more time. He had to work on so many different things…!  
There were times he had to rest a bit in the office during the day and then just a few joors at night only to wake up and get back to work.  
  
«No it’s not that» Scrapped crossed his arms, walking over to the ambulance laying on the berth that separated him from his mates. «Megatron decided that you’re the one who's in charge of keeping him prisoner.»  
The crane’s visor flashed in surprise. Was he really given this responsibility then? He did take care of a couple of Autobots before, yes. But he wasn't ever given this kind of task.  
And saying he was here still thinking Megatron would have soon went to take him in a cell or simply gave the order to someone else...  
  
«I talked to him again on my way to come here…» he continued to explain «he told me you can refuse…»  
«But he wouldn’t be too happy about it.»  Hook finished for him. «No. He wouldn’t be happy at all.» The Constructicon leader nodded, reaching his Second as he walked around the berth, looking for a nanoklik at Mixmaster who ran to sit on a desk, then added «you're a comptent mech and he'd probably be very disappointed to see you refuse.».  
  
Megatron didn’t want to rule a bunch of irresponsible idiots, so he made sure everyone would have understood that keeping prisoners wasn’t a joke. It was a big responsibility. Anyone could be a spy that pretended to be captured and knew exactly how to leave after taking the information they needed.  
Usually, the one who captured a mech, was the same one Megatron chose as... responsible of keeping them. Keeping them prisoner and also alive. That was important too.  
Last time, the two stunticons weren’t given this responsibility, being way too young and naive for such job. They wouldn’t have been ableto handle the situation and could get easily tricked by that more experienced Autobot.  
  
While the Constructicon Second in Command wasn't youngand naice. He was a surgeon, an architect, soldier and Second in command of the Constructicons… and apparently lately he should have needed to accept the fact he somehow managed to become the Decepticon Psychiatrist too. Even if he really did not like that and would have rather preferred if things stayed the way he kept repeating himself... That he was not everyone's psychiatrist!  
  
«And he’ll have control on him as well...» The surgeon thought out loud, now looking down at those dark grey faceplates, still slightly scratched under the left optic. He couldn’t have finished his job yet. The white medic was still healing inside his chassis and on the knee joints, he would have needed to wait a bit more before finishing, maybe a couple of solar cycles, since those parts were so delicate. And then he needed to clean him up properly. That would have happened the following early morning instead… After he gave him a proper anesthetic for his heaing servos and knee joints.  
  
«As always, Megatron has control on any mech of this ship, but he’ll be yours to monitor and it’ll be your job keeping him alive. In any way you’ll consider appropriate.» Yes. Any way. Megatron wanted his solders to realize that prisoners weren’t toys nor pets.  
Sure, sure... one who captured an enemy, if Megatron trusted them enough, had the possibility to have power over them, but they had to keep them under control and alive. That kind of power over another mech could be risky… it could make someone misunderstand their captive’s position and their own. It was important that they had to stay alive. Unless… unless in some rare cases that never really happened when Megatron was around. The warlord was many things but he wasn't a mad mech who enjoyed to slowly kill his preys.    
  
«I accept, of course.» Hook moved away from Scrapper to reach his captive. «I was afraid he would have decided to take him away from me instead» he admitted. Because it was true… that ambulance on the berth… he was the one who went to pick him up and saved him from leaking dry on the ground. He fixed him before it could be too late on Astrotarin while they were turning back, he repaired his broken energon lines and his knee jointy, and those… perfectly built, sensible and obviously skilled digits without ruining their beauty.  
This... This autobot was his prisoner! He already proved to be responsible enough!  
  
  
The door hissed open and Soundwave stepped inside, followed by Ravage. Mixmaster giggled «Hey!» and made a quick movement with the servo towards the tape deck to greet him in the less formal way possible. And Scrapper almost slapped him, too bad he was out of his reach. Why did he had to embarrass him every time! «Soundwave.» He saluted instead, bowing just lightly lightly the helm respectfully. The Tape-Deck remained quiet, and like a mirror, repeated the same respectful movement with his own helm. Then stepped closer to Hook, followed by a very nervous Ravage.  
«Soundwave: apologizes for being unable to call back Ravage in time.» he started to talk, pointing at his black cassette «Ravage: knows better than to try to kill unconscious enemies without proper authorization. Ravage: will assist Hook for a decacycle in the med bay».  
«Ah! Hook, you get two in one! C-c-combo-» Mixmaster grinned and ran out of the med bay laughing, Scrapper shaking his helm in defeat. Damn, why always when their superiors were around?  
  
The crane quickly looked back at the Spymaster «I’ll make sure he will help me in here. As much as he can, of course». Ravage seemed to be ready to start to growl at anyone, tail moving nervously from left to right, up and down, claws almost reaching his master’s leg as if to threaten him he was going to scratch, but quickly put the paw back down as Soundwave stomped lightly on the floor close to him.  
  
  
«Don’t tell me you’ve been staring at me all this time.» The crane grumbled as he woke up again after having his short rest of half joor and finding the black cassette sitting on the desk, looking at him with a furious expression. He started to look at him like that when that night the Decepticons returned with the energon they took form the oil platform. Hook made him start to work immediately so he could quickly fix Astrotrain’s wing, that he accidentally hit on the floor as he landed.     
  
Ravage obviously didn’t want to work as a surgeon assistant, but Soundwave decided that was what he would have been doing for the following decacycle and the cassette also decided to stay mad at the only one he could stay mad at. Not that Hook really cared. He was tired and maybe now Ratchet would have started to wake up, he could take him to his quarters and then he could rest properly for at east 6 joors. Unless something happened of course.  
  
He stood up and stretched, huffing as Ravage hissed at him «I don’t care. It’s your fault if you’re in this situation, not mine. Who told you to go kill him?» he crossed his arms and looked at the feline pinning the claws in the desk. «Hm. I understand, nobody is perfect… except for me» he grinned and went to stand close to the ambulance. Still resting, well… he surely wouldn't have liked to wake up and stay around six Decpeticons. But he honestly had nothing to complain about. He was lucky enough he didn’t enjoy wasting his time to torment him as much as some other deceptions like Blitzwing or Vortex did. Well... It would have been a lie saying he didn’t enjoy seeing someone shake in fear. Just... Those who deserved it, like someone who hurt Mixmaster for example. Oh he really did enjoy see them suffering. And to the Pit his coding.  
  
He tilted the helm, looking at the white Autobot carefully... and he couldn't resist. He lightly and slowly traced with a digit on that soft and so sensitive red metal of the other medic’s servos. They were overly sensitive especially after the surgery and they twitched lightly even under that so light and gentle touch.

Ah... Beautiful servos indeed. So sensitive and delicate. How... perfect. He loved to watch them, carefully slide his digit over the joints, feel the warmth coming from the thin metal. He knew he shouldn't have touched them... so let go and tried to keep his own servos away.  
How difficult it was…!  
  
And it was diffuclt waiting for him to wake up before starting to clean him up too. He had to make him look perfectly fixed. This here was his rival, the medic from the enemy faction. He couldn’t risk to seem less good compared to him.

 

Ratchet slowly onlined his optics before he realized he was actually awake. He groaned and tried to stretch, like he always did when he woke up every morning in the Ark or when someone called him at night, just stretching a bit the arms and back. But two things reminded him where he was. The pain in the servos, knee joints and almost everywhere inside his chassis, crawling upto his neck cables… and the fact his limbs were still strapped down on a berth, unable to move.  
  
He gasped and clenched the denta at that stinging sensation in the digits, then went immediately still as he spotted the green mech next to him. Hook. He was there, next to him, looking down inside his green-blue optics with that expression… that cold expression.  
He tried to remember... what did he do to him before?

He… he fixed him apparently. Yes he… he kept him awake all the time and started to repair him. But was it… was it to show him he had no bad intentions or… or to scare him?  
Before he could try to remember more, he gasped and tried to struggle free, ignoring any pain, when Ravage sudenly jumped up on his berth, slowly walking closer to his faceplates. Oh damn it! Why was he always supposed to end in worse situation. Why-?

He almost felt like crying again and in fact before he could even finish to think about it, a few drops of coolant started to slide down his cheeks, his whole frame shivering. The surgeon tilted the helm and carefully moved a servo over to his helm, keeping him still and making him look up at him instead.  
  
“What do you want to do to me…?” he thought, unable to open his mouth and talk. He was paralyzed from fear and that pain that slowly started to become stronger and stronger. He wanted to just fall into stasis again. He… He spent his last solar cycle thinking to be so close to getting killed in the worse ways possible… and they always procrastinated his demise every time. Leaking dry in the mud, melted alive, taken apart on a medical berth.. now what? He was going to get his throat cables ripped away by that black feline?  
No.  
  
No, apparently that wasn’t going to happen because everything he felt was himself finally able to move again. He simply got… untied. Once the surgeon released his helm, he managed to look down and spotted Ravagesitting down next to his legs. He was looking at him with a kinda nervous expression, but instead of growling, hissing or scartching, he quickly jumped away and he lost sight of him.  
  
Now the cassette was gone, Ratchet slowly looked back at the Construction close to him. What did he want to do? Why did he untie him? And now where did he want to take him? It was obvious they were going somewhere, or he wouldn't have released him instead.  
«So… you’re going to take me somewhere where you could interrogate me better without… getting your med bay all dirt of my energon?» he tried to sound brave and not as scared but that sentence came out with a whisper, showing the Decepticon how afraid and hurt he still was.  
The ambulance gasped as he suddenly found that red visor so close to his faceplates, he managed to see his own tired optics reflected in that scarlet glowing glass.

«As if I'd complain about having a medical berth dirt of energon.» What did he think he was? Afriad of filthness? Hook didn't like it, but did this Autobot remember he was a CONSTRUCTICON that used to work with his pedes in the mud every solar cycle?  
«And IF I wanted to interrogate you, medic, I would have removed your T-cog and told you to start talking if you wanted it back.» He grumbled.  
Really, the crane wasn’t in the mood to argue with this Autobot for nothing. And he could tell the other was still terrified, what did he think to accomplish playing all brave and bold?   
He slowly pulled him up in a sitting position. The ambulance groaned in pain and quickly pulled his servos close to his chassis, holding the wrist with one, then caressing the digits, then the palm. They hurt so much. He finally gave up trying to keep on that fragile mask of bravery and shivered as the surgeon placed a digit under his chin and tilted his head up. «I am not here to hurt you, medic. I’m sure despite your current fragile mental situation… you’d be able to understand how counter productive it’d be for me sedating you before the painful operation you went through».  
  
Alright that was true but Ratchet struggled to keep calm. This mech in front of him could take him apart… he had no strength to fight back, everything still hurt. He didn't seem interested in any kind of information he may had. What was he then? An hostage…? To keep his own team at bay? Oh… oh no. His team.. they were alone without him. He got captured. Who would have helped them? Ah… hopefully Optimus was fine. Hopefully First Aid managed to solve the problems all by himself or... or helped by Wheeljack. They had to be fine. They had to be! Who would have made sure Optimus wasn’t tiring himself out trying to understand where he was? And about all the others? Were they hurt? How serious were their conditions? Were they looking for him now? Oh Primus help him… he was stuck under the ocean with this dangerous surgeon and any attempt to call for help and contact them was useless.  
  
Decepticons weren’t to be trusted. He didn’t care about what the Constructicon said… he... he would have hurt him anyway in the end. He was going to suffer a lot and eventually get killed in a terrible way.  
«Then… where are you taking me?» the ambulance murmured, looking away «to… Megatron? He wants to have revenge on Optimus beating me up instead?»  
  
He didn't expect to recieve an answer.  
«What a low consideration you have of me.» Megatron stepped inside the med bay, obviously having already heard every word. The white mech gasped and moved quickly, turning his helm to look at the much bigger grounder that was already standing close to him. He kicked his legs ignoring the pain and almost falling on his back.  
Hook simply bowed the helm lightly and moved away from the Autobot who started to shiver even more, panting uncontrollably. It looked like he suddenly feared to be left alone with the Decepticon leader...and that the green surgeon just became the only one he wished to have close to himself in that moment for some reaons.

«Hook» the silver grounder said when the crane stopped in front of him «I think your leader already told you what I expect from you.». The Constructicon nodded «Yes sir. Scrapper told me that Ratchet is my responsibility. I captured him and already took care of his wounds, so he will be offically under my control from now on.» the looked at the ambulance again «And you’ll decide when to take him from me.»  
«Good, I knew I could count on you.»

Ratchet felt coolant gathering in the corners of his optics. Why were they talking like that? Why weren't they even giving him a hint about what was going to happen? After a few cycles of silence, the ambulance managed to find his voice again «What do you want from me?» he stuttered, but secretly hoping Megaotron wouldn’t have answered. He was too afraid to hear him saying what his purpose would have been now.  “Oh please Primus… please save me.“ he prayed, finally starting to cry once again both in pain and panic.  
He was going to die, slowly… he knew it. He would have been dying… for a long time. But not physically. He... he was…!  
  
The next thing he felt was someone else’s servos on his shoulders that carefully slid down and started caressing lightly on the arms. It made him online his optics once again, but couldn't calm him down. He knew they were Hook's digits on his plating and he couldn't feel comforted by that. Never, ever.  
Then a sudden sharp and thin object pierced through his neck cables. He gasped and almost yelled, despite knowing exactly what that was and what did that liquid he just felt being injected inside his cables was for. He recognized it almot immediately. A much lighter anesthetic than the one the Constructicon used for the surgery.  
  
The pains in his frame slowly started to fade away. Blown far by a warm wind. Only in the servos he could still feel some of it… Hook made him turn is helm so he could look at him again, being careful not to twist too much his newly repaired throat cables and the lines inside.  
«Calm down, Ratchet.» There was still no malice in his tone. He sounded just… just clam and focused. And maybe even a little exasperate deep inside, really not knowing anymore how to make him understand they weren’t going to hurt him.  
Because he didn’t think Megatron would have ordered to have him tortured anyway! It was something so rare… and used only in critical situations. Despite what the autobots thought, they preferred to use fear and threats to make their prisoners speak... mind games. Just in very rare cases they chose violence lately. Back on Cybertron... well, that was another story.  
  
«Doctor.» Megatron called Hook’s attention again after a couple of cycles and the crane quickly looked up at him. «Your gestalt mates are free to help you, since your duties in this base are important. But don’t make them work for you. I expect a lot from you. Understood?»  
«Understood, my lord.» the surgeon nodded and grabbed onto the ambulance’s arms,now finally pulling him up on his pedes. «This will be all» The warlord decided, stopping a moment to pet Ravage's helm as the black cassette approached him, then walked out.  
  
Just the fact he was allowed to have such a role made it very clear Megatron didn’t expect Hook to behave like a youngling. That was obvious. And now, taking care of this prisoner wouldn't have been as simple.  
He was still petrified and didn’t even seem able to walk. With all these drugs he was giving him, it was obvious he reacted as confused and scared as ever. This medic was way more brave than this but… seriously, one could be brave in the battlefield close to his own team, not in an enemy base after he just went through a pretty serious surgery, got drugged once again while he was standing in front of the leader of his enemies. And he was also afraid of his rival who was in charge to keep him with himself. Of course. He couldn’t blame him for being afraid of that neither.

«Come with me.» Hook said after Ravage received the command to stay and guard the med bay and call him as soon as something happened in there. When they left, Ratchet bowed the helm and looked around quickly in the hallway, then waited for the Construction to push him where he wanted him to go, but surprisingly, the surgeon pulled him by his side and then he began to walk.  
Was he… going to take him around like that? No pushing? No gun pointed against his back? They didn’t even… meet so many Decepticons on the way! Only a few. The three Reflectors...Reflector? And a dark blue seeker who seemed to have all the intentions to jump at him, but honestly did nothing more than standing in a dark corner, glaring at the two passing by. Ratchet knew him, it was… Dirge. Maybe. Oh in that moment he was feeling tired. That anesthetic made him wish to close his optics again and recharge for another solar whole cycle…! And wait… Hook was in charge to… to what? To take him to a cell? Where was he taking him again?  
  
  
When he stepped inside the Construction’s quarters, Ratchet almost felt his sparking sinking. Oh Primus why was he here? What did they want to do to him? The room was large, wth a high celing. there was almost nothing in there, except for a lot of shelves, desks and a very large berth in a corner, far from the entrace. And he saw two mechs laying there, waking up as soon the door hissed open. Ratchet recognized them to be Long Haul... and the much smaller one was Scavenger. They both stared at the intruder next to their mate for a few nanokliks and then just shrugged and went back to recharge.  
  
The other two he managed to spot immediately were both  seemed very tired, sitting at a large desk covered in blueprints and pieces of metal. Mixmaster seemed to be still reading a few data pads… even if Ratchet didn't take too much to understand he was actually recharging and... still talking. The other, Bonecrusher, was actually still awake and quickly started to put everything away, as if he got scared the ambulance was going to spy their projects. The scientist woke up too and helped him to tide the desk.  
  
Ratchet noticed that no one of them grinned at him or tried to make hi uncomfortable. They all minded their own, and acted like they were expecting him to get in there and were actually used of something like that to happen.  
  
The mech next to him grumbled after looking around for a moment, then talked with a quite loud voice, meant for exactly who he was talking about to hear him «If in two cycles you’re not recharging, I’m forcing you into stasis for ten hours.». The mixer and Bulldozer hurried to clean the desk and literally dived in the large berth with their companions, while from behind a door, something similar to a complain could be heard.  
The crane smiled satisfied, then grabbed the Autobot from an arm and kept walking deeper in his quarters. He opened that door and the ambulance looked inside. There was a corridor with three doors on each side. They... semed to all have a personal room apparently. The crane leaned against one of the closest ones on the left, but didn’t open it. Ratchet understood quickly what he just did… he simply wanted his leader to go recharge. So this was... a medic thing he thought. He did the same thing with Optimus…

Hook grinned and then moved away and walked out of the hallway, taking him instead through another door, in a room Ratchet quickly recognized to be the wash racks. The ambulance shuddered, feeling sick all of the sudden. Why did he take him in there…? He gulped down the air and simply let his captor push him forward.  
  
«W-wait!» he immobilized himself when he hit against a wall, feeling his spark spinning crazily inside his chassis «Wait a moment…! W-what…?».  
He quickly turned around and saw that the surgeon was staring at him, obviously blacking his way out, but his expression was that… that usual mix of seriousness and slight tiredness. He wasn’t grinning, laughing... he wasn’t making fun of him… he didn’t even seem to be much interested in… proving his superiority over him… trying to show who the best between them was.  
And he didn’t even seem to be interested into doing… something else.  
  
«You think I’ll let you in my room while you’re covered in dirt?» the green mech eventually said after two cycles the two remained there staring at each other. The Autobot backed away a little more, feeling trapped again. there wasn't much space to move around «I want you clean.»  
Clean… so he could get in his room? Why in his room?! Why? What… was he going to do to him? He expected Hook to be cruel and merciless with him… He was his rival and… enemy! He wasn’t even being nice, he was just being so cold and treating him like… like a patient? «Why not a cell? I’m a prisoner, I’m your enemy. W-why…?»  
  
The crane shrugged and turned on the coolant that began to slide down the white frame of the Autobot. He shivered lightly but remained still, watching the dirt and mud being washed away, sliding down his plating and ending into the drain.  
  
«Megatron decided I’m the one who's responsible of keeping you prisoner.» He knew Autobots didn’t act like this. The Stunticons got captured once. Motormaster said they got locked in separate cells while they were all stuck in vehicle mode and monitored. They were given fuel through a pump through the bars. Obviously they didn’t use drugs like Deceoticons did and without that, keeping them under control could be quite difficult indeed.  
Now, it may have seemed quite bad, yes… keeping a mech drugged to keep them under control. But the doses didn’t need to make one completely overcharged and unable to understand a thing anymore. For example, what he injected into this medic wasn’t that strong. It simply made it very hard for him to run and fight, but it still allowed him to walk, think and speak, move, it didn't make him have hallucinations of any kind and gave him more relief from the pain he would have felt in the servos and neck cables without it. It did make a mech feel confused and tired, but that was the only side effect.  
  
«So… now I’m your little pet s-slave to play with-» Ratchet immediately regretted saying that, even if it was barely a whisper, the otehr heard him. Oh he would have kept the mouth shut if he knew Hook would have had such a reaction. The crane stepped closer, not seeming to care about the liquid running down his shoulder. An flash of anger glowed behind that crimson visor, denta bared in a furious snarl.  
  
«How dare you, Autobot?!» he shouted, slamming a fist on the metal wall beside his helm. Constructions were strong mechs… moving around heavy materials all the time. A punch from them would have probably split his faceplates in half. «I have no idea what your whole faction has been saying about Decepticons, but we are not rapists!» Hook knew some Decepticons in the past has been treating their captives a bit roughly, but they never did anything… wrong to them. Oh absolutely not. They wouldn’t dare… there was no forgiveness for them.  
The white medic offlined the optics and turned his helm away, tears hiding under the coolant that run down his helm. Maybe… he should have expected that such an insinuation would have caused this reaction. Accusing someone of doing something so disgusting... he should have kept the mouth shut. He shouldn't have said that.  
  
Now he made him get really angry… as if he was in the position to afford to have a mad Construction in front of him. «You think that’s what we do? That we capture our enemies and abuse them for fun?» he growled «Do you really think I captured you to torment you like that, because you’re my rival?!».  
  
He… yes. Ratchet remained quiet now. That’s what he exactly thought that was going to happen. He expected Hook to hurt him, push him to despair and leave nothing left of him.  
“I’m… sorry.” he only managed to think, unable to speak after what he caused just because he couldn't keep quiet. The crane always looked so serious, cool and impossible to break... but apprently this kind of things managed to make even a professional architect and surgeon like him lose control.  
  
He immediately onlined his optics as he felt a way too gentle touch on his shoulders. That red visor’s glow returned to be just as cold as before, his expression almost numb as he slowly cleaned the seams of his white armor from the pieces of ground. Just as if this conversation never happened, Hook took back control of his emotions completely.  
  
But the white mech remained tense all the time, now really expecting to get hit after making the Constructicon so angry. But no blows came… the other kept working silently and didn't even attempt to hurt him by "accident". He has been even so gently with his red servos, he barely felt the cloth pushing aginst the digits.  
Then the autobot almost gasped when he saw the green surgeon lowering himself on his knee to pass that soft cloth on his legs, carefully cleaning his joints, knowing exactly where to touch him nto to cause pain. Hook wasn’t like this…! He was… he was full of himself, arrogant… and always looking at him with disgust in the battlefield. Now he was… kneeling in front of him? How did he… how did he manage to swallow his pride to do such a thing?  
When the Constructicon looked up at him, Ratchet quickly turned the helm away. He was feeling so uncomfortable and confused. And so... afraid of what was going to happen to him.  
  
Damn it why? Why was he thinking about that? That reaction his captor had meant nothing to him? Alright, Decepticons couldn't be trusted but... was it worth it for that surgeon acting so unprofessinally and shout at him... just to play with him? Make him have fake hopes? Welll... it wasn't an unprofessional reaction... it was more like... a normal reaction, he realized. He had the right to be angry.  
  
They both just kept quiet for the whole time, just the coolant trickling down on the floor could be heard. Hook eventually pulled him out and wiped away all the liquid, passing the dry cloth inside every seam of his plating, just letting him finish with his most private parts. Then led him out again. His mates were all recharging, all four on that large berth. While the leader probably decided to stay in his own room.  
  
  
Hook’s room was in front of Scarpper’s one… and it was small. Very small. Probably meant to be just a small office where he could work and recharge peacefully if he needed to stay alone. The berth was much smaller compared to the one in that larger room, enough for no moe than two Constructicons. Honestly Ratchet didn’t expect them to stay all together to recharge… He expected just those six separate rooms. Other than the berth he could see a quite large desk and a shelf full of perfectly ordinate medical datapads. There was nothing else. Everything in there was also… very clean. Not a sign of dust or mud or a data pad left there on the desk.  
  
The surgeon stretched lightly and went to sit on the berth for a moment, then looked at his prisoner standing there by the door. Frame still shaking, even if just lightly now, but he easily noticed it.  
«Come here Ratchet.» he said, while standing up. Not really having a choice, despite knowing he wasn't tied nor threatened with a gun, the Autobot moved closer. The surgeon's gestalt was right out of that door and attacking him wouldn't have been the smartest thing to do. Even trying to jump on him and try to ... force them to let him go... seriously, who would have ever done that? In the enemy's base? Risking to make five mechs jump on him without thinking twice and take him apart with their servos?  
   
The Constructicon put a digit under his chin and tilted his helm back, so he could manage to look inside those blue-green optics once again. «If you’re hurt, doctor, you’ll wake me up and tell me how serious your condition is. Since you’ll perfectly know about it.»  he said «now lay down and recharge.».  
  
The white mech looked at the berth. Damn it… this terrible feeling wouldn’t leave him alone. He was told  that wasn't going to happen but... but  He didn’t want to recharge so close to his rival. He was scared. Now he really wanted to be put in a cell, screw that he wouldn’t have felt comfortable all, screw that he would have probably had to deal with someone who enjoyed tormenting prisoners more than this surgeon… he didn’t want to be close to him...! «Come on.» the Construction quickly lost his patience, now pushing him to sit on the soft surface and making him lay down. Ratchet offlined the optics again. Oh Primus no… oh please no… no! He said he didn't want to hurt him...! He said... he... said...!  
  
When after two cycles he was’t feeling anyone close to him, the Autobot medic looked around just to find the surgeon sitting on the chair close to the desk.  
  
Apparently… he meant it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's just one reason why Constructicons have private wash racks. Because if they went in public ones, they'd make all the other Decepticons wait for them to fix the drain that got stuck with mud, dirt and gravel. They're the ones that always turn back dirt of everything and can't always cause a mess in the wash racks. So they have their own and make them get stuck without causing trouble to all the others.


	4. Patch up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Units of time:
> 
>  
> 
> 1 Nanoklik - 1 second
> 
> 1 Cycle - 1 minute and 30 seconds
> 
> 1 Joor - 1 hour
> 
> 1 Solar Cycle - 1 day
> 
> 1 Deca Cycle - 10 days
> 
> 1 Stellar Cyle - 1 year
> 
> 1 Vorn - 80 years

The green surgeon was still sitting on that chair far from his berth. With his helm resting against his servo, elbow leaning on the desk. Well, it sure looked like he was used of recharging like that, because he really seemed to be asleep, not changing position or even moving.  
But really, how could he manage to fall asleep so quickly with an enemy in his own room? Sure the Autobot was under the effect of some weird drug, but did he really not fear to get attacked at all?  
  
Ratchet lied his helm down changing position yet again instead, taking a deep intake and trying to order to his processor to relax and at the same time trying not to recharge. Because if a part of him was so tired and just wanted to rest, the other refused to offline his optics while Hook was right there with him in the same room.  
Having this Decepticon so close to him was very uncomfortable… even if… Okay, honestly Hook was quite far from him. He wasn’t doing anything bad to him, he was even resting on a damn chair to prove he wasn’t even interested into touching him even just accidentally. But he couldn’t trust him completely. Not yet, not like this!  
Decepticons always kept something secret. They kept playing with their enemies, manipulative monsters. They always lied. Always.  
  
The ambulance huffed and tried to calm himself, but still wondering what would have happened to him the next morning. So he began to think about what happened to his teammates that were kept prisoners in this base before him.  
Last time one of them got captured… it has been Sideswipe. That young mech said they’ve thrown him in a cell alone and one of the combacticons walked inside to have fun insulting him and slapping him. Then he ended  getting beaten up by that Decepticon and Hook went to fix him. Apparently… it was only one of the rare cases. Ratchet shifted on his side, trying to get comfortable, but not wanting to turn his back from the green mech.  
Sideswipe has been left in a cell… like… like they thought was a normal thing to do with prisoners. But… no. Apparently Decepticons usually had other methods. Even Perceptor got captured once… and he said that for all the time he has been kept captive, he wasn’t sent to a cell, but had to stay with Blitzwing. When he had to recharge, the triplechanger, not having a personal room, took him into the shared quarters of large frame soldiers, then transformed into his jet mode and kept him locked in there as they both recharged.  
He was left in a cell just when the Decepticon had to leave the base, otherwise, he was always kept around him. Blitzwing was also the one who captured him… no, wait.  From what the scientist said, the Sunticons captured him but Blitzwing was the one who took him away instead. The Arialbots chased him, not Motormaster’s team.  
  
He could think about a couple more of their soldiers that has been taken away, and kept under control from one Decepticon who kept them close instead of locking them up in a cell alone. Perceptor, Bluestreak, Cliffjumper… who got captured twice. Just Sideswipe was left in a cell. A thing they all had in common was that their.. jailor, or as Hook said “the responsible”, was always a mech who captured them… or that contributed to that.  
  
Perceptor didn’t really say anything about getting injured while he was captive. Blitzwing apparently treated him well. The most violent thing he ever did was simply pushing him down the hallway to make him speed up. He was being fed regularly and no one dared to take advantage of his state… because like Ratchet, even the small scientist was kept drugged. Every night Blitzwing took him to the surgeon who gave him the injection.  
Bluestreak instead was given to Soundwave. He too didn’t get hurt at all, not by him or his cassettes, but when he returned he looked so different for the first solar cycles. Apparently the Decepticon third in command had the habit of cuddling him before taking him to recharge, right after the visit to Hook’s office. Bluestreak said how it almost became impossible shooting at the Decepticons the first times. He admitted how much he felt ashamed for wishing to have the telepath cuddling him one last time.  
It was almost scary… Ratchet had a hard time believing that was all Soundwave did to the young Autobot but he assured him nothing else happened. The other almost never talked to him, he brought him with himself in the recording room and didn’t say a single word all the time, it was almost boring! He never touched him for the whole solar cycle. Just before recharging he did that. The first night he didn’t do it. The second night, Blustreak admitted he actually cried when the crane was done with the injection, panicking as he suddenly thought they were maybe killing him with a lethal injection. And Soundwave started to show him that kind of affection just after that happened.  
  
Cliffjumper instead complained about everything. The first time when he was given to Astrotrain because… well, because he was a Decepticon, but despite everything when Ratchet asked him to be honest and tell him if he got hurt the answer was no. Astrotrain never even talked to him… except for maybe three or four times to ask him if he was hungry. The second time he was given to one of Starscream’s Mates: Thundercracker. And he obviously had to stay with all three. Seekers needed to share everything. So if one of them had a prisoner, the other two would have needed to get involved too. it was a too strong instinct apparently.   
The minibot said that by the end his processor ached so much he would have rather became deaf. Those three apparently chirped like birds all night and day long in their native dialect not to have him understand what they were saying. They kept moving and touching and smashing those wings against him. They acted differently from everyone else. If all the grounders or triplechangers were mostly quiet and reserved, Seekers were the complete opposite. They were tactile and loud. But that didn’t mean they did something wrong to him. They touched him, yes, but Cliffjumper soon realized it was a way to check his emotional and physical state. They felt his temperature and strength of his electromagnetic field simply using their servos without needing to ask. Which was something that made him suspect their damn kind wasn’t so loud but they did it on purpose only now to annoy him!    
  
And… and now Ratchet couldn’t think of anything else now. He was tired. So tired. That anesthetic was keeping the pain away and the warm coolant from before relaxed all his wires and joints despite how tense he was feeling in there. He offlined the optics, waiting for his systems to power down. He didn’t want to think anymore about what would have happened when he woke up… for now he needed to recharge and he knew it. He looked up at the Construction one last time. He was immobile, sitting in that same position. Was he really asleep?   
«Just recharge, Ratchet.» No. Apparently having an Autobot awake, rolling in the berth and staring at him made it impossible even for him to rest. And… he was right. The medic hid his faceplates with an arm. He kept him awake all this time like a sparkling. It wasn’t a surprise to hear that annoyance in the other’s vocals.  
  
  
When the Autobot medic woke up, he almost forgot he has been taken prisoner by the Constructicon. The surgeon slowly traced a digit on the back of the white helm and gently pressed down to call him. He still expected to get pushed down the berth.  
«Ratchet.» The crane called him, bow crossing his arms over his chassis. The ambulance tilted the helm and and slowly pushed himself up. He was still a little tired and confused but quickly felt himself getting nervous and alert. He was in the enemy’s base. He couldn’t afford to be so sleepy. The other’s voice was completely numb and once again Ratchet wondered if he was still angry about what he said that night in the wash racks. But he didn’t seem to be angry. «Come with me.» he simply said, already walking over to the door.  
  
All the other Constructicons were already awake and seeming to get ready to leave and get to work. Ratchet tried to understand what they were doing. The youngest of the group was still laying in the large berth and Scrapper seemed so close to throw him on the floor, but luckily he had both servos busy holding blueprints. Apparently both Mixmaster and Long Haul already left the quarters. Bonecrusher was under the desk looking for… something. When the Autobot focused again on the surgeon’s expression, he didn’t look so numb anymore, but he still had a slightly empty expression, mouth left half open. He was probably using the gestalt bond to communicate with his leader. Sometimes First Aid did it too.  
  
Once Hook was done, he grabbed the white mech from his arm and dragged him out in the hallway. The Autobot looked around, trying to memorize the area he was in right now. He had a terrible feeling and was considering again the idea to run away and hide. Where was he taking him? Did they decide what to do with him today? Just because he was feeling a little better? He bowed the helm and followed his captor, since there really was nothing else to do.  
  
The crane looked down at the ambulance and tilted the helm to the side, as if he was looking at something he wasn’t understanding. Why did he have that look on his faceplates? What was he even thinking? That he was taking him to get executed…? «You are going to stay in my med bay, doctor.» he said, now keeping his glance forward as he kept moving.  
He felt the other looking up at him right after, but he decided not to turn the helm to look at him in the optics this time. He already felt his frame shivering from anxiety and confusion.  
Well, why was he surprised? Capturing a medic was one of the best things that could happen to a faction. Especially in times of war. Medics were the most useful subjects. And Decepticons already had to be very careful and protective of the only one they got. Most of the time the scientists had to tend at the soldier’s wounds, being the only ones who had a little more knowledge about it compared to normal soldiers. So they usually could still count on Starscream and Mixmaster if he somehow wouldn’t have managed to operate. While the rest of his gestalt was more specialized on armors instead of endoskeletons and delicate surgery on insides.  
  
But now they had the Autobot medic too. Sure, he was going to kept under observation, but that wouldn’t have been a problem. Hook knew this mech wasn’t an idiot and wouldn’t have tried to do anything stupid some youngling could consider “heroic”. Someone could think he would have had the possibility to sabotage one of the soldiers and use them as a hostage to get free. But with all due respect for this officer, there was no way he would have managed to do something so complicated without someone noticing. Especially not now Ravage was in there. Ravage. One Soundwave’s best spies. And with Soundwave obviously focused on the Autobot’s movements as he did every time they brought to the base a prisoner.  
This wasn’t some kind of human movie where one prisoner alone managed to destroy a whole organization. Reality was different. This as a war and even if no one would have dimmed it, they were always alert while having someone who didn’t belong the the faction in the base. Even if the captive would have been a young minibot, no one really felt sure about anything. They may have pretended to underestimate them. But the truth was different.  
An enemy in the base wasn’t making them feel protected anymore. Even if locked in a cell or tied down on a chair.  
  
The surgeon stepped inside his med bay and smiled slightly when Ravage hissed at him, while Ratchet shuddered and instinctively moved behind the closer mech he could find, which was the Constructicon at the moment. The cassette quickly jumped on a desk and lied there, folding his paws under the chest plates, tail moving from side to side. Hook tried not to high in exasperation after the first two nanokliks since he walked in. Was he really going to stay angry at him for the whole decacycle?  Alright. He decided, smiling only growing bigger. He didn’t care honestly.  
  
The autobot was standing there in the middle of the room doing nothing, not that there was something he needed to do now, but Hook wanted him to get to work soon enough.  
«When the patients come in, you’ll check on them. If they complain, you’ll tell me» He said, not moving his glance from the sharp tools he started to clean and place back down on the table. He had something else to worry on and he wasn’t sure they would have had emergencies this time. The raid went well and he already repaired those who got hurt.  
  
«You… you will make me do your job?» The autobot asked, looking at the green mech in complete confusion. He was acting like… a nurse?! Hook?! Why didn’t he tell him to go clean his scalpels? Was he afraid he would have tried to use them as a weapon? He didn’t want to risk to have his servos ripped out by Ravage. Wait… no, if he needed to check on the Decepticons that walked in he would have needed to take those tools.  Then why?  
  
«I want you to check on them. Until I finish what I must do now and tell you to stop.» the surgeon simply answered I’m with that deep and serious tone that made the ambulance wonder if he was going to hurt him or not. He sounded both calm and angry. How was it possible?  
When he saw Hook sitting at a desk and pulling out a few blueprints from his subspace, Ratchet understood what the other meant.He wasn’t going to get hurt. Apparently, they decided to use him like this. He wasn’t going to get hurt yet…  
  
Sure he couldn’t feel safe yet. He was scared. He wanted to go away. To turn back to Optimus and check how his real team felt. He needed to see if First Aid was doing fine… if he was panicking or not. This whole situation was absurd. A deep deep part of him wished the Decepticons just treated him how he expected. Threw him in a cell and started to interrogate him. At least he wouldn’t have needed to suffer this. This whole fear things would have went worse all of the sudden. That his captor would have really hurt him soon. Ratchet looked at Ravage then at the Constructicon, who raised his helm from his work for a moment and just to tell him to have a look around and familiarize with the area while waiting. He simply stood there in his office, leaving the door open and having  clear view of the whole Med bay. He didn’t stay behind him as he expected, just waiting for a bot to get in so he could observe his every movement, maybe hoping he would have done something wrong. He simply minded his own… leaving most pf the surveillance to the back cassette.  
  
This was… all very weird.  
  
  
The first Decepticon who walked in was the yellow Stunticon Drag strip. Ratchet looked at him and he tilted the helm lightly, looking around, probably searching for Hook. «He told me to take care of his patients for now.» He almost murmured, wondering the other heard and really hoping he did.  
The yellow car shrugged and went to sit on the berth, accepting the situation way more easily than what Ratchet expected. He stood next to him and waited to hear what the problem was, but he just kept quiet, waiting for… something!«Well.. what is wrong with you?»«Ah I don’t know! You tell me, you’re the medic here, Autobot.»  
  
Ratchet almost felt like grabbing the first wrench and slap that arrogant mech across the faceplates, but he was lucid enough to understand that if he did it, that going to have serious consequences on him later.  
He took a deep intake and with all the patience he could have, he slowly explained that if he didn’t tell him how he felt, he as going to waste time checking him completely and they both would have wasted time.  
   
«Well, okay, doc. I feel like falling into recharge as soon as I speed up over the seventy miles per hour. This isn’t normal! It’s making me want to break something. Too bad that only makes the situation worse!»  
So he… he broke something?  
The ambulance nodded and decided to check his energy levels… and almost had a spark attack when he saw they were around 47%. Less than half. He quickly checked the enrgon level too and even if he expected the result he got, he almost jumped when he found out it was below 60%. It wasn’t that weird his engine burnt his reserves much more slowly. He was starving, and the pulse slow. What was he thinking seeing up so much?! How did he walk to the med bay?!  
Oh Primus. Oh Primus what could he even do?! He didn’t want hook to see him panicking but seriously this mech was going to burn his reserves dry!  
  
He couldn’t be sure if he felt glad or embarrassed that the surgeon calmly walked around his desk and reached them both. He looked at the console and didn’t even react to those dates. Ratchet almost lost it. how could he be so calm? Was he just dong this to show he could keep his cool in every moment? He couldn’t stand it… this damn arrogant crane… he should have expected him to make fun of him sooner or later.  
  
The Constructicon walked over to a closet and pulled out a metallic box, with slightly smoothed edges. «Who skipped the refueling yesterday?» he asked, opening the small box and pulling out a grayish purple block of… what looked like crystallized energon…?  
The Stunticon rubbed his helm for a moment «Uhm me and… just me!»  
«And today?»  
«We all skipped it»  
Skip? He… didn’t refuel for two solar cycles?  
Hook walked over to the berth again «and two solar cycles ago?» Drag Strip crossed his arms and huffed «I think it was me and Dead End-» his visor flashed in realization. «Oh…!»  
  
The crane shook the helm and handed him the small piece of energon «Insecticons can share their resources much better than you Stunticons, you know it, right?» he grumbled.  
«Ugh! But you always give me this tiny slag-thing of dry energon! Uff!» he complained, observing the block that was starting to crumble as he pressed too tight on it.  
Hook game him a look and the other only shrugged «Yes I know, I know. Eat your standard ration, think about the poor soldiers on Cybertron who don’t have it-» the  murmured something else in a toking tone and started to eat. He offlined his optics as he obviously struggled to keep it down and not purge. The texture was kind of powdery yes, but also very hard to break in the inside, not rigid, almost gooey. It was far from the consistence of crystalized shell and liquid core of energon treats.  
The ambulance looked at the two and finally dared to ask «Why… do you skip the refueling?»  
The stunt icon looked over at him and giggled «Hey, Autodoc. Are you aware of the King of Road’s dimensions? We’re barely half his size.»  
  
After that, Ratchet remained quiet and observed the crane checking again the mech’s energy levels, rising up to 80% and the energon level reaching the 75%, the engine allowed to work properly once again.  
75% was still low. But seeing how the surgeon dismissed the patient, sating that his levels were regular again, made the Autobot understand that he wasn’t trying to act calm and professional to mock him for getting scared. This was probably something they were used to. He just wanted them to be not in danger. Not… fine. Decepticons were never fine apparently. They were just “not in danger”.  
  
And it was correct. Hook knew he couldn’t bring every soldier to their proper energetic level. They just had a successful raid, sure but most of it had to be sent on Cybertron to Shockwave. Then a big part of it was needed to keep the power shield functioning in case of emergency, some more was sent to the med bay and the remaining needed to get shared through the troops. Obviously it was always watered down to make it easier to share especially through gestalts… and tasted terrible. But nobody complained anymore by now. Only the Stunticons did, but that was quite understandable.  
  
It was also true that nobody in the base ever felt completely fine. How could the be fine, seriously? They all had low energy levels most of the times. Those five younglings were made to dash through the streets and were too young to have an energon level lower than 60%  without collapsing. Hook knew his gestalt could do it instead. The seekers could resist too, but to all of them. Ramjet and Starscream’s trine for example, but the Second in Command could go even lower without collapsing. He got used to it due to a… quite sad situation in the past.  
Most of these things were also the reasons why despite being in war, Decepticons interfaced way more often than the Autobots. Honestly it wasn’t even that weird they often referred to them as “depraved”. It was known they did it often. And consensual. But apparently they always skipped that part. Glitches.  
Interface was the only way to feel.. better, both mentally and physically. It restored balance in their systems and made them relax. differently from what many thought, Megatron wasn’t against it at all. As long as it was consensual and not during work.  
  
Before the crane could finally return to work, he looked at the ambulance «I should have explained to you what is a standard level for us.» then added «We won’t let you starve, if that’s what you’re afraid of now. We’ll get our ration in a few joors.»  
  
  
By the end of the Solar Cycle… no wait, it’s been around twelve or thirteen joors, but since they woke up in the early afternoon, it waste night. Well, during this time Ratchet visited only six more patients. And no one of them reported any serious damage. They mostly had problems with some materials stuck under their armor and scratching the endoskeleton. He was allowed to recharge a few joors on a medical berth and as Hook promised, he had his ration. And noticed how the Constructicon’s one was way less than what he had. He felt… embarrassed.They… didn’t receive any help from the Humans and they apparently got used to waste less resources than them. the fact they failed most of the attacks made much more sense now. even if they could stay up, it didn’t mean they could be perfectly active and awake.  
He almost felt sorry for them. Then remembered thy were the enemies and how much destruction they caused… and… he felt just slightly less bad. Not good. Only less bad.  
  
The green surgeon was cleaning his scalpels once again, while Ravage never stopped to keep the enemy under control. Suddenly Ratchet felt a stinging pain coming from his palms and traveling through the arms, reaching his shoulders and neck cables. He shivered and held his wrist with a servo, then he other… then he offended the optics and almost fell down. The pain was back. Everything hurt, if possible even more than before. He couldn’t suppress a whimper when he leaned against the desk, is digits almost burning.  
Soon, a cold servo grabbed on his shoulder and pulled him up. The Constructicon medic gently pushed him on the berth and the needle pierced his throat cables again, injecting that same drug that slowly made that pain fade away.  
  
Ratchet looked up at the other and just like he did for almost the whole time, kept his mouth shut. He really had no idea if his rival was angry… if he was still offended because of what he said, if he was doing this on purpose, making him calm down enough so he could hurt him later. And honestly he had nothing to say. He didn’t want to thank him for saving his life neither. He captured him and was keeping him far from his team. There was no way he was going to thank him.  
  
But… he couldn’t even stay angry. Nobody was hurting him.  
  
Somehow this solar cycle passed by way faster than what he expected. He was doing his usual job and that kept him distracted enough. He almost felt like he as in his own med bay.  
  
When they both returned to the cosntruticons quarters, they didn’t get directly in Hook’s room, as the Autobot really hoped. His captor let go of his arm as soon as the door behind them got locked. «If you want to recharge, we go in my room so you can lay down. Or you can read the data pads I have on the shelves if you’re not tired yet.». Ratchet was surprised to see him letting him do what he wanted. He was… treating him like a normal mech of their own faction. Not like a prisoner you’d throw in a cell and beat up. Seriously what did Sideswipe do to get that sort of treatment??  
  
Ratchet bit his lip, unsure what to answer. He didn’t know. He wanted to hide from all these mechs but he didn’t want to be left alone. He was terrified to stay in a room alone and maybe… maybe having to meet another deception that found him there on his own, unarmed and… that would have took advantage of the situation, differently from Hook.  
  
Scrapper approached them and rubbed his mask against his Second’s cheek. «He can stay here too if he wants to read» he said, looking over at the white mech and then walked over to Scavenger and Mixmaster, both busy chattering on the large berth. He just let himself slide down on his front and reached over to grab the excavator’s tail, petting it softly.  
Stay there? With them? Oh Ratchet didn’t want to… He felt so observed and… afraid. Even if honestly what the Constructicon leader was probably one of the most gentle and kind things he could have seen a Decepticon doing. Caressing his mate’s tail like that and shifting closer to them… as if those servos never got stained in is enemies’s energon. He was so affectionate.  
«Well?» Hook asked him again «Are you tired, Ratchet?».  
He nodded slowly and the other nodded, taking him back to his room and like the previous night, pointed at the berth and while the ambulance went to lay there, he sat down at the desk.  
  
«…Hook…?» he murmured, not raising his helm from the pillow and resulting to have his voice muffled. But at leas the other heard him. «Was is it, Ratchet?» Again using his name… how was it possible his rival seemed to respect him more than some other Decepticon that really had nothing to do with him?  
He kept quiet. Not sure if he should have voiced his thoughts or not. He couldn’t thank him for abducting him, okay… this whole situation was weird.. it was.. making him go crazy. But it was since the last night he needed to say it.  
«Ratchet?» the other repeated, standing up and approaching him, red visor focusing on the other’s immobile frame.  
«I’m sorry…»  
The decepticon medic didn’t answer right way. And he waited all this time to say that? He was afraid he would have gotten even more angry? He even tensed after saying it, expecting to get hit maybe? Because he brought it up again? Why? Apologizing didn’t make a problem worse. It usually fixed it.

«Just recharge, Ratchet.» he said, like the previous night. But when Ratchet looked up at him, he saw the Constructicon showing a different expression this time. Not numb and distant. There was the hint of a smile on his faceplates. Even his voice was slightly less cold.  
He didn’t expect his rival to forgive him so quickly for what he told him in the wash racks. That superb and arrogant mech they knew him as was apparently a very serious medic… he worked well. He saw him working. Every time he repeated how perfect his work was… it wasn’t a bunch of empty words. He was skilled. But this attitude he had seemed to be just what they wanted to see from outside. What he wanted them to see. He did believe to be the best apparently… but he wasn’t uncaring. Not after he saw him working. He was a good doctor. And he wasn’t as cruel as he thought he was. What ever made him believe that? He couldn’t know how these mechs lived. And even if they apparently lived terribly for various reasons, he wasn’t so bad. He wasn’t cruel, he wasn’t uncaring and evil. Apparently all the evil things he did in the past were done for a reason. He couldn’t know what reason… but it had to be something serious.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I remind you that the Stunticons in this AU are pretty much born yesterday.  
> Okay maybe a couple of years before, but they know nothing of war yet.


End file.
